Prime VS the Pebbles
by hummergrey
Summary: Optimus Prime and Will Lennox are an undefeated team until this road trip. Add Decepticons, an injured Elita and Prime's mom. How will Optimus explain his actions? What secrets can she reveal from his childhood? CH 17 Sunsets, old love and new friends.
1. Chapter 1 Truck Runaway Ramp

Author's Notes: Optimus Prime leads by making the right decisions based on thousands of years of experience with Cybertronian forces. How will he handle one misstep or rather, _misroll _on earth? Throw in Will Lennox, **(NOT a pairing)** a scenic mountain campground, and lots of unforeseen complications and go from adventure to disaster in the flash of a laser beam! **Not a dark / angst fic**. **No slash, smut, gore or sleaze.** Read and enjoy. Set _story alert_ or _author alert_ to receive notifications of updates.

Warning: As usual, please keep all food and drink away from computer and monitor or laptop screen and not in your mouth lest you spit and choke said food.

I do NOT own Transformers in any shape, size or form. This is strictly for fun and never for profit. If you want to use any of this, email me to let me know and I can read your fic, always looking for a good read and to share. NO SLASH OR SMUT though. I draw the line there.

OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OPTIMUS PRIME

"I am not sending an Autobot distress signal. The Decepticons can track it. I am a bit of a target," Optimus stated firmly, his regal baritone diminished within the confines of his sleeper cab. Major Will Lennox, leader of NEST balanced on the angled driver's seat, shifting to ease the soreness his stomach.

'Their favorite target,' Will thought, remembering the helicopters bringing back his destroyed frame, dropping it on the Nellis hangar tarmac nearly three years before. "You keep a link open with all your mechs as Prime. You have heavily encrypted comm lines to Ironhide, Prowl and Ultra Magnus. A special signal known only to Elita. Relay over one of those?" An ominous deep growl rumbled the entire cab. "Not even a compacted distress beam to Ratchet?"

"Especially Ratchet!" The mech snapped back. Pain sensors were fluctuating as gears and parts strained, caught in a barely started transform. Gravel filled every space, preventing smooth transitions unless crushed and that fine grit filled connections the pebbles missed. 'Shutting down primary sensors,' he began overriding medical protocols, fighting with his own safeties.

"Will, you'll have to reach in and pull them out by hand around my main processor. I cannot transform." The armor plate nearest the alt mode front left fender popped out with a hiss, rotating up to release a stream of pebbles back out. "If you please?"

"Sure, why not?" He fought to keep from smirking as he stood on the metal runner brace. Jokes and puns began running through his mind but he kept the conversation light. "I can't believe," he scooped out a handful of the small gray pebbles; "You didn't know what you were doing Optimus." Two more scoops of the pebbles were thrown out. He paused to look at the semi alt mode, its normal red and blue flames grey with scattered dust. The shape was twisted, distorted to the eye as though bent in odd ways no human could make. His blue jeans and green army t-shirt was rapidly becoming coated with grey dust.

"I expected a truck runaway ramp on a steep downward incline to use passive lasers, tractor beams or anti gravity lances. Not a five foot deep pit filled with tons of small round rocks! How primitive," the ancient Prime grumbled, sunk up to his axles in the runaway ramp. Will paused, looking around the sunken front bumper at the majestic mountain view spread out before them. An eagle soared in the distance, its scream floating back on the wind. Clouds drifted in the blue sky, white and fluffy. Sweating, he leaned on the warm metal, remembering the terror from moments before.

He had been enjoying the mountain cliff views, content to let Optimus guide them down the steep inclines of the highway when the warning alarm sounded

"What is that?" A career soldier, he recognized an alarm.

"Sensors detect oncoming collision, taking evasive action," Optimus intoned, shifting his engine power down, swerving to the right.

Two small cars, both brightly painted street racers zoomed by, barely missing them as Optimus skirted the guardrail, a cliff edge and fatal drop beyond. The human made and driven cars raced past, engines straining with the uphill angle.

Will hung onto the steering wheel tightly, palms sweaty. "They came out of nowhere on that curve."

"You may relax Major, they are past," Optimus chuckled. "And my steering wheel is disabled. Gripping it or turning it will not affect my navigation. And pressing my brake pedal does not engage my engine restraints."

"You can do that?" the human asked, releasing the simulated rubber wheel.

"My alt mode resembles a Peterbilt sleeper cab semi. I am not controlled by it," he gently reminded then applied the brakes, air hissing as the incline steepened on the curve. Spread out before them, the road zig and zagged down the entire mountain, descending its massive height in a few miles of sloping blacktop.

Will whistled in appreciation. "Can your brakes handle this? You are one heavy mech," he teased.

"Cybertron is not a flat planet Major and this is not my first driving experience on earth. But they may be a problem," he stated. Will's eyes scanned the road laid out below then groaned. Three more sets of racing cars were heading up from the valley below.

"Must be a cannonball type run," he realized. The first set of cars made it past, the red Mazda falling in behind the yellow Dodge racer. The next set raced size by side, forcing Optimus against the guardrail again. The last racers, a blue Ferrari and a silver Corvette dared them to strike, running in their lane.

"Taking evasive action, hang on!" Optimus commanded, locking his brakes, sliding to the right and the promise of safety in the human made runaway truck ramp. Will braced, seeing no way such a short distance of pebbled area could stop them from the abyss at its end.

Optimus slid, his alt mode rear end turning sideways then shifted back straight under his mech controls at ramps edge. He sailed onto the surface, tires grabbing for traction. "Oh frag!" he swore, the sound lost over the creaking noises as his alt mode mass sunk bumper first into the pit of massed pebbles. The sudden stop slammed Will forward against the wheel, knocking his breath out of him. Optimus shook, processors and safeties reacting to the impact force. Battle systems engaged, sensors targeting an enemy that was not there. Venting hard, he opened his alt mode's driver's door, pushing pebbles with its bottom edge. "Major, I need to transform to free myself."

Gasping, Will braced on the door, one hand rubbing his stomach. "Okay, need a minute," he acknowledged. 'This is great. A circular shaped bruise on my gut. How advanced a life form is he? Swear to protect the planet and forgets a simple air bag,' he thought then tried to jump down. "Arrggh!"His feet sunk into the pebbles, throwing him forward, arms wind milling as he fell. Optimus scanned him, detecting no fresh damage and began the transform sequence.

Will spun on his back, reaching for the 45 in his leg holster as Optimus screamed, alt mode twisting and heaving. Human eyes scanned the sky, road and nearby trees for Decepticons.

"What?" he yelled, trying to brace, sinking and unbalanced.

"They're inside me!" Optimus snarled. "I'm unable to continue."

Will's eyes went big as he realized what had happened. The smallest gap and the grey pebbles had poured in like water. Leaving the Transformer in his alt mode, barely shifted and trapped. "Are you sure we can't call for help?"

"No!"

"Fine, don't be a sparkling. I can only remove so much by hand. Then what?" The human asked, trying not to laugh. The movement would only hurt his sore abdomen.

"I need a tow truck," the mech admitted quietly. "And Major,"

"Yes, Prime?"

"Try not to enjoy this... situation too much. I do have some dignity."

"Understood."

**Diego Garcia NEST base, Main Autobot Hangar**

"Communications, has Major Lennox confirmed their estimated arrival time?" Prowl asked, his wing doors relaxed above his shoulders. The black and white armor glimmered in the hangar lights, not a scratch or mar anywhere across its smooth surface. He faced the wheeled platform squarely, optics lightly spinning with interest as he waited. He could have accessed the logs directly from the mainframe but chose to honor the human's wishes for verbal communication. His own desire for privacy kept from snooping on their activities while remaining alert for reactions indicating distress or trouble.

"No sir. No communication on any line," The tech confirmed, scanning the entries.

"You sure?" Ironhide strode over, his acute alien hearing alerting him. The black warrior mech exchanged a quick glance with Prowl before switching to internal comms.

::Prime change his plans? Fly back instead of drive from Cheyenne Mountain?:: Ironhide

::Failed to inform me. Conference ended and he specified driving to Nevada for rendezvous with Silverbolt. Specified he needed the 'down' time with Major Lennox through purple mountain majesty:: Prowl answered, his mental tone unhappy at the thought of missing information.

The tech waved for their attention. "No contact, no update since he called in 10:30 last night at the conference. Confirmed they left the base before sunrise. I came on at 05:45 hours sir. There has been no communications with us or Pentagon command."

Master Sergeant Epps bit his lip, not liking it. "Prime always keeps a link right? Can you reach him, ask where they are?"

Both mechs shook their heads human style, side to side.

"Prime signal tells him when we are offlined," Prowl corrected, actively scanning Autobot signal relays for a distress call or message. His blue optics dimmed as he multi tasked.

"Prime is a big bot. He does not need to check in," Ironhide huffed, patting one of his cannons to hide his growing concern.

::Anything?:: Ironhide

::Negative. Conferred with Bumblebee and Hound in the field, no relay in their area either. We can contact directly. Ask his status?:: Prowl

::If we needed to know Prime would let us know. Wait half a joor then relay a request for a command decision:: Ironhide

::What decision?:: Prowl

::Create one. Or the request will be for Ratchet to repair us if Elita One finds out anything happened to him and we didn't check it out. That femme of his scares me:: Ironhide

_To be continued….next up, tow truck time. _


	2. Chapter 2 Tow Truck arrives

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and its tow truck time! A quick update for those starting the work week or enduring tests at school. Onward to getting free but dragging stones with you.

OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OPTIMUS PRIME

Will closed the cell phone with a sigh. Its bright pink color and white gemstones reflected the mid day sun too brightly for his taste. "I still can't believe Annabelle changed my cell phone with hers."

"You could have requested a spare from the Cheyenne base," the red and blue semi next to him reminded in a regal baritone.

"And have to admit I never checked it after leaving Diego Garcia, hugging my wife and daughter before boarding a sentient Hercules jet named Silverbolt to accompany a sentient alien team leader to a super secret planning conference inside a hollowed out mountain?"

"That is still not a reason," Optimus said

"No, it's not. I did not want them to see it. Annabelle has photos of Ironhide and her on here as part of herscreen saver, despite how many times we have discussed confidentiality," the father sighed.

Optimus chuckled but it held a note of pain underneath. "The screen saver is Wheeljack made. Only when the sensors detect the bio presence of your family does it activate."

"Detect? Wait a minute," he examined the phone closer. "This is Wheeljack's make?"

"Affirmative," he rumbled. "How else does it always get full reception?"

"Point made. The tow truck is on its way. Apparently, there is a gas station by the pass this time of year. I can charge it on Sarah's AAA card. Diego Garcia will not be able to track that. And as long as state patrol doesn't drive by, no official report will ever be noted."

"Worse would be a state patrol vehicle designated Prowl or Barricade," Optimus muttered, shifting slightly in his entrapment. "Major, I am going to trigger deep recharge, disabling combat protocols."

"Rest, I am here," Will patted the door the same way he would comfort his six year old daughter. He felt sorry for the ancient leader. 'To get a scream from him means it was freaking painful. Have got to get those stones out. Any further screaming and I will call Ratchet, dignity or not.'

An hour later, the faded yellow tow truck rolled into view above them on the highway. The old Chevy and its attacked crane hook had seen better days. It stopped at the end of the slope, neatly turning and backing down to the edge of the pebble pit.

"You all call for a tow out? George's advanced towing. You blow we tow. You crash we go," the man chuckled, leaning out the open driver's window.

Will nodded, biting back a retort at the aged driver. Wrinkles covered his face and hands, matching the sparse white hair on his head. Getting out slowly, he was thin and tall, wearing a simple blue coverall dotted with grease stains and black work boots. He stopped at the side levers, rubbing his chin and gauging the distance between his back bumper and Optimus alt mode. He touched the first lever and the tow hook lowered, chain unrolling onto the ground.

"Run the chain out while I get the J hooks would ya?" George called out. Will grabbed the chain, staying on the narrow edge of soil before stepping and sinking in the pebbles. The chain reached exactly under Optimus simulated main rear axle. The driver hobbled closer on the soil strip then tossed the metal hooks to Will. "Wrap the chain and hook each on the main frame."

Will dug out scoops of stones, trying to get under Optimus frame. Hot and sweaty he was grateful the man left him to hook it. Externally he was a semi, underneath too many of his Cybertronian parts showed. Will got all three secured, only half hearing another chain thrown out onto the stones behind him. He paused, sweating and wiping at his eyes when the next chain seemed to explode out of the tow truck and land near the back bumper.

"Pretty nice set up. Never seen a truck throw chains like that before," he climbed up onto the dirt strip and walked towards them.

"My own design. Water in the cab, no beer," he tipped his hat before moving towards the chains. Will opened the door, wincing at its protesting squeak of rusted metal before grabbing the water bottle. Cold and refreshing, he guzzled it down. George struggled to tighten the main chain, finally getting it taunt.

"Been doing this awhile?" he asked, buying time for his body to recover. 'Probably drop dead of a heart attack if we both don't rest. That would draw to much attention. Local dies of coronary helping alien leader," he thought.

"Yup," George patted the rusted side affectionately. "Bought old Hubcap at auction when old Bessie gave out. Worth ten of her. Almost drives itself and a snap to hook up. Don't look it but power, who hee!"

"He's… it's a big rig," Will pointed out the obvious.

"Pulled Peterbilts like that one before with trailer's still attached. Now that is a fine mess. Then you get them drivers that do not have papers or are hauling something they should not and pay with cash. I don't mind. Grandkids get their presents with cash or credit charges either way. Ready to pull your rig out now?"

"Hook up the remaining chains?" Will reminded.

"I did, you weren't paying attention," the old man gestured to the five chains now wrapped securely around the main axle and under supports, pulled tight to the tow truck crane hook.

Will blinked, "I know I saw him do only one," then peered closer at the rusted tow truck. He walked around it, not touching but looking at every mark on it. Then he saw it. Low on the back panel of the truck bed, dirt encrusted and partly missing on rusted metal was a faded Autobot symbol. "Ready," he answered.

The truck's engine roared to life with a power no earth made design could match. The tow truck engaged gears, creaking then began slowly moving forward, dragging Optimus still alt mode backwards. Reaching the edge of the pit, he began rising like a loaf of bread baking in the oven. Slowly, past his rear axle, then his doors cleared until his front bumper crossed onto solid soil. Pebbles rattled, falling and raising dust. Will felt like cheering but settled for hiding his face in his shirt until the dust settled.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3 Hubcap Cybertron Past

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Congratulations to reader Anodythe for noticing the tow truck's name was Hubcap. It was in the last chapter. Yes, he is a real Transformer tow truck though from a later cartoon series but he fits perfectly. Research his name at tf wiki if you want. Or not and be surprised at who he is and what he does. And threesome is a friendship NOT a smut mention. They are robots and explained below.

WARNING: This chapter is darker with mentions of war, offlining and such. Still good but not all sunshine happiness.

HC HC HC HC HC HC HC HC HC HC HUBCAP

Will bit his lip as the tow truck ground through its gears, shaking and jerking uphill. The aged vehicle continued, cars passing them by, some laughing, some snapping photos with their smart phones and some pointedly ignoring the little yellow truck towing the large red and blue flame decorated semi in the right lane. It shuddered again before regaining speed.

"Sorry, bit rough. Ain't usually this bad. Getting tired like me I suppose," the driver George patted the dash with a wrinkled bony hand.

Will twisted to look back at Optimus, wincing as he imagined the jerking on the mech's already twisted frame. He braced, jerking like a bobble doll then pressed against the glass as the road curved to the right. The trail of pebbles dropping from Optimus was a steady trail then continued over a large clump of pebbles in the road. A clump pile as though dumped out of a wheelbarrow. He grinned as he realized what Hubcap was doing.

'The jarring looks like rough transmission but he's jarring the pebbles free. Optimus is too big to pick up and shake so he is…' the human gritted his teeth as metal squealed and the engine huffed while shaking before smoothing out. 'Helping Optimus while he's locked in deep recharge. I hope he's in recharge. That or we are both going to need neck braces.' Will twisted back around, leaning back against the torn, faded bench seat. He knew George was solid and not a hologram. Whether George knew what his tow truck was, that was the question. Will struggled the next hour with how to ask then finally decided he was hungry and tired and would find out soon enough.

They reached the summit, coasting by the pass altitude sign before the little two car repair garage came into view. The aged gas pumps were roped off but a silent testament to the year the station had been built. The roof sagged a little but was solid, the outside neatly repaired and painted basic white.

"EPA closed the gas part down years ago. Required safety in ground tanks and special sensors and it cost too darn much. Collectors keep offering me money for the pumps but I 'm considering donating them to the local museum." He pushed the remote on the visor, the far repair door sliding up. "They're raising funds, Christmas raffle, and potato sack race at the county fair, summer car wash and such. Speaking of which, you can wash up in the garage, spare coverall on the peg. Clean and waiting," eyes scanning the younger man's dirty pants, sweaty shirt and dusty face.

"I won't refuse soap and water," Will brushed at his pants before giving up. The dust coated his hands more than the floor. The tow truck pulled in, smartly turning and backing Optimus silent alt mode into the spare space. George could barely turn to look, his grip light on the wheel with his stiff joints. "All safe and sound. Finish the paperwork and check messages. Then meet me inside. Cool room, colder drink. You need a place to sleep tonight?" he asked kindly.

"Not sure, working on the logistics of that now. But I need to consult… someone else. Let you know shortly." He climbed out, moving his neck back and forth. George stepped back to the side controls, releasing the tension on the chains.

"Your ride is safe here for a few days if you need. Mechanic in town is fair but slow. Wife's pregnant with their third and due any day. No guarantee on when. I can tow to the county line or anywhere inside it. But only once. So pick wisely son," he said, sitting at an angle on the seat, letting the tow truck coast ahead into the sunshine. "Be back old fellow." He patted the hood then ambled towards the side office.

Will found the coverall, shucking off his boots and outer clothes without hesitation. The coverall was used but clean as promised. The sudden clunking of metal had him spinning around as the back hook sagged, lowering to a resting position.

He moved to stand in front of the yellow truck. "I know you are an Autobot and can hear me." The tow truck remained still. Sighing, he concentrated on the pronunciation.

SNICK CLICK CLUNK CLACK

He bit back a smile as the truck jerked, sliding backwards in surprise. 'Gotcha!" the Major thought. 'Ask rank and to identify self in high Cybertronian.'

"Afraid I cannot say, and the name is Hubcap," a deep toned mech voice came from the vehicle. Will tilted his head, considering. The age and depth of his voice matched his worn physical appearance but details were irrelevant with the Transformer species. He remembered a time when the twins had reset Grimlock's vocals to match Annabelle's.

"Afraid to admit your cover was detected by a human?" he dared.

"Nope. Reason bothers most beings," Hubcap dipped his front bumper down.

"I've been around your kind for awhile including Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet and others," Will confessed.

"Ironhide? Big black mech with cannons and a can do attitude? Pretty little femme of his deadlier than a snarkian cybercuss?" The truck rose high on its wheels, front grill leaning towards him.

"That… is him and Chromia."

"Hmm, liked those two on Cybertron. Always lighten my spark they did. We made a good threesome." He rocked side to side, his tone delighted.

"You're a warrior?" Will asked, trying to imagine his bi pedal mech mode.

"Me? Ha no sonny! I'm talking threesome off the battlefield," he laughed while Will blushed. "I was a parts recycler." The human's face showed his apparent blankness. "After a battle the Autobots take their wounded to med bay and claim the offlined for mourning and entombment by the clan elders. Decepticons leave their wounded and offlined mostly. There might be an exception here or there. A sign of weakness by their standards."

The major remembered Egypt, a wounded Megatron and Starscream retreating while his team dealt with the wounded Decepticons and broken mechs from Devastator. "I've seen that. Never seen the exception but that is useful information to know."

"That's where I come in. My job was to take their sorry remains back to base and recycle the parts. Medics always need this component or that cabling or transistor for their repairs. Ironhide and Chromia can fill a scrap yard faster than any other bots out there. They don't mind me and better yet, they come and visit. Often good sometimes not."

"Ironhide lost a buddy once. Medic that repaired him and those cannons of his. The offlining fragged him off something terrible. Came looking for the shell of the Con. Set it up on the wall and blasted it again and again, even the wall and half the storage behind it. His femme shows up, silently helps him unhooks his blazing cannons and holds him once he collapses. Never says a word and don't have too. Primus himself put those two as mates."

Will bowed his head, struggling with the image of a grief stricken Ironhide. The terrible price his mech friends had paid in their war hit home once again. He reached for his boots, sliding them back on.

"Me, I let them be and help with target practice on shells," Hubcap continued. "Then back to filling repair orders or shipping in bulk to the melting pits. Best job on Cybertron. Now I do it here. Only those battles are against speed, bad drivers and weather. Blasting is still the same. Junkyard up in the woods keeps the humans out. Maybe we go shoot later huh?"

"Later," the human focused on the parked red and blue semi. "Can you help Optimus? You know parts and uh, removal stuff."

"After dark. Nobody round here takes to a bi pedal mech out on a stroll. Campground part way down the other side is deserted this time of year. Too cold and once the snow starts, it gets buried. Pulled out wrecks from there. Know it pretty well. Steep curvy road, river alongside and splash! More shells to watch rust," he laughed, settling on his frame. "George's been pestering the county for years to lower the speed limit, post more signs, higher reinforced guardrail and such. Offlining always bothers him."

"Does he know? About you I mean?" Will finally asked, walking over to the sink and turning the water on.

"Never asked but he knows. I talked to him one night, spark was fluctuating. Kept him going till the human medics arrived. After that, we talked about our families and little of our pasts. His younglings are up north with their younglings but his femme is waiting at the matrix. Not long till he meets her spark there I'm guessing. You got family? Optimus over there got any?"

"Wife and a sparkling for me. Optimus Prime has a femme named Elita. They're trying for a sparkling," Will explained, pausing from washing up.

"Really? Good! Don't want to be the last bot, dragging off the shell of the second to last bot. No one to go shooting with then," Hubcap finished.

"I'm going for that drink now," Will mumbled, raising one hand to wave goodbye before walking towards the main station.

An hour later, Will helped George hook the central chain, his stomach filled with two sandwiches, potato salad and a beer. Optimus had never stirred. Hubcap too remained quiet.

"You sure the campground? You don't look the recreational type. Outside sure but not city escape to the stream type. Your rig needs repair not rest," George said, the puzzlement in his voice clear.

"I have help coming and it's a sleeper cab. Better bed than many a night over the last ten years," Will reassured, his hand hesitating on the passenger door before he closing it. The ride was short, without the jarring shaking from before.

They pulled into the state campground, bouncing a bit over the speed bump before turning into to the second campground space. Hubcap expertly spun, guiding Optimus alt mode into the flat space for camping trailers.

"Thanks. What do I owe you?" Will asked, reaching and pulling his wallet out of the coverall pocket.

"Nothing son. You defend our country and I isn't about to charge you," George surprised him by saying. His wrinkled face formed a true smile.

"Defend? Uh, that is," Will verbally stalled.

"Was navy myself but you army types aren't too bad. You all walk, talk and move the same on land. Get you on sea and you're over the rail, barfing for all the world to seeing instead of seeing the world but hey," he cackled, elbowing Will lightly. "Can't be perfect. And you called it in AAA. They cover hook up and twenty miles in this state. Old Hubcap's odometer ain't never worked right anyhow. Twenty miles it is. Sign the form and I be on my way. Check back with you at sunset. And mail me the coverall if you need to wear it a bit. And son, no feeding the bears. Lost two last year to high cholesterol and the park ranger gets itchy when they drop dead that way. "

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4 The Campground

Author's Notes: Thanks for the wonderful reviews. Never know how a fic is going to be received. Glad you enjoy Hubcap and George. As long as you want more, I will post more. I never set an end to any fic, letting them continue as the adventures do. Arinesworth is not a real state park in Oregon but based on one up by Mount Hood. A quick update as I can.

The concept of interlink and using other Transformers to boost power and tracking is my concept. The spark contains their soul, their very essence of their personality and memories so connecting them outside of mating (keep it clean) would be a sharing too personal and dangerous at best. Transformers are energy and powered systems so interlinking would be possible.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

On Diego Garcia Island, NEST Base, inside the main Autobot hangar, the mechs continued discussing their missing Prime and the situation in their middle level Cybertronian. The humans on the communications platform ignored their clicks and high pitched chirping sounds. Major Lennox's long standing orders forbid any translation attempt of their alien friends. They saved the planet and protected the humans' from the Decepticons, the least they could enjoy of their own world was a private conversation in their native languages.

"Not my responsibility. I'm Chief Medical Officer not info bot," Ratchet grumped. His yellow and green armor looked sickly in the fluorescent lights but his tone was firm. "I am not going to tell Elita that Optimus is missing and off the entire communications grid."

"You just did," a feminine voice stated quietly from behind them. Ratchet shuttered his optics as Ironhide's spun wide as they could. The other mechs winced, moving to stand behind the two officers.

::Can we make a run for it?:: Ratchet suggested then turned and felt his spark contract. Elita stood there, the faintest red beginning to creep across the blue of her optics. It was the other femmes standing behind her and their looks that he knew meant no escape. Moonstar fingered her sniper rifle as Chromia took an aggressive stance. Firestar tapped one foot up and down as her static charge built.

::One good thing, if Optimus is offline, we will see him at the matrix soon enough:: Ironhide

::And if he is not and the femmes' offline us?:: Ratchet

::They can explain to Prime when he returns and we are away from them. Could use the rest:: Ironhide sent then winced, as Chromia was the first to react.

"All humans, clear the hangar NOW!" Chromia ordered in English, merely raising her vocals on the last word. Every human dropped whatever he or she were doing, some literally with reports and coffee cups and fled for their size door, pushing and shoving to get through. No one was going to challenge the dark blue femme.

"Explain," Elita commanded, moving closer. Her rose armored frame was intent, emanating purpose.

"Optimus left Cheyenne Mountain and missed his morning check in," Ratchet began.

"And?" she prompted.

"Missed the next two check-ins. We called Will's cell phone and no answer. GPS has it at his farm house. No contact of any type registered from either of them. They are overdue and missing. No reports of Decepticon or human military activity either. We are assuming communications stealth or they are choosing not to contact."

"We left several voice messages and text messages with Prime's relay," Hound offered.

"Voice messages," she repeated, the red mixing with the blue to form a purple color in her optics.

"His personal energy signature is too faint to track, and human satellite coverage in that area shows trees and more trees with occasional roads. There are seven states involved and the most direct route is still almost 800 earth miles from the Cheyenne Mountain base to Nellis Air Force Base. The area is too vast without more information. We have monitored all police and emergency frequencies without results. Wheeljack is on his way here with Silverbolt to work on narrowing the geographical area down. They are presumed missing at this point, not lost," Ironhide confronted her, knowing she would want the truth.

"I cannot reach him either," she admitted, sagging on her support struts. "He's online. I sent our special signal and it echoed back one nano click," she stated, one rose colored armored hand resting flat palmed over her chest panels. The other Transformers relaxed a little, knowing at least that much.

"So he's either in stasis, stasis lock or deep recharge close to stasis?" Moonracer asked, reaching a hand out to comfort her. All the femmes moved instinctively closer, murmuring sounds to their friend and commander.

"Which he almost never does," Ratchet commented. "I have a pit of a time getting him to recharge properly. If he is that deep, it is because he has to be. And we need to find him."

"I will know when he resumes normal processing and accepts signals," she stated, leaving unspoken the fact she would know the moment he offlined too.

_**Arinesworth State Park, Oregon State**_

_**Near sunset, Campground spot # 2**_

Will sat on the wood picnic table, reading the brochure. "Nestled in the Mount Hood National forest, Arinesworth Park is equal parts waterfall wonderland, hiker's playground and camper's delight. Hear that Optimus? Feeling delighted? I'm not," he commented. "Lets' see, anything about how to explain our absence? I have the feeling the usual "national security and can't tell you" is not going to roll with a group of alien mechs. However, there are forty-five full service campsites under an all-natural tree canopy. The sound of running water and the smell of campfires for that outdoor experience." He sighed, laying the brochure on the table.

Sounds of rustling through the trees had him slowly reaching for his leg holster. 'Approaching from the south, two distinct treads. This area is supposed to be deserted.' He moved slowly, as if stretching as he tensed muscles ready to turn and aim. The sound of a twig snapping was like a ready command to his trained body. Two brown mule deer stepped through the brush and froze as he spun, drawing his gun in one smooth motion. The deer flicked their ears forward then continued towards the stream.

'Glad nobody saw that. Think you're a trigger happy idiot.' Snapping his holster back down over the handle of his gun, he turned and yelped in surprise. Hubcap's yellow tow truck alt mode was facing him.

"Never seen deer city boy?" he teased, rolling forward without his engine running.

"Don't sneak up on me like that! And yes, I've seen deer," he snapped but without malice. He was aware acute alien hearing could detect his rapid heartbeat and detected on sensors down to red blood cell level for all he knew.

"You didn't shoot. I thought your race hunted them?" he questioned.

"Not me. Hunting an animal without teeth or claws with a high-powered scope, half a mile away is not hunting. Sides, my wife Sarah and Annabelle would never speak to me again for killing Bambi or Elliott with his one antler," Will admitted.

"I agree. There are adversaries worth hunting. Decepticons, no bagging no tagging and they keep coming!" he rocked side to side chuckling before transforming slowly to his bi pedal mode. His side leg panel opened, pulling out a length of expandable dryer hose he attached to an elbow joint. "High power suction. Use it to clean out debris and fragments to reach parts I need. Though summer time I chase the squirrels off the bird feeder. George likes the songbirds and the varmints raid the birdseed! Should see them little fur balls when they roll out the other end, fur all static and aren't hurt a bit."

Both gazed at the semi as it groaned, lights flickering.

CLICK CLUNK SNIKT SNAK

Will ordered while ignoring the other mech's twitching his lip plates at his rough phrasing.

"Stay put soldier," Hubcap echoed in English. "Can't say I'd order a Prime that way but I know who you heard that from. It sounds like Optimax there needs us," as the semi groaned softly again.

"Optimus," Will corrected.

"Optirock or Opebbles fits better I think at this point," at the distinct sound of pebbles hitting the ground. "Say ah," Hubcap teased, transforming his fingers to tool ends like Ratchets. "Met him once, probably won't remember. Big gathering and all."

Optimus slipped out of recharge to detect Will Lennox and an unfamiliar yellow mech standing in front of him. _Scanning Prime matrix files for identification:_

_Energy signature identified: Autobot. _

_Confirmed: Hubcap, Cybertron support forces. _

_Resident: Axiom Nexus colony _

_Occupation: Parts Retriever for medical core. _

Optimus processors locked on the last data bit. 'Parts retriever… that means…'

"Arrrrggghhhh! Stay away from me you! I'm not offline yet, do not touch my parts!" Optimus commanded, rolling back, parts rotating back to normal alt mode while others twitched, unable to shift.

"Yes! You do remember. At your service sir!" Hubcap saluted. "I'm here to help, and not disassemble either. Say ah, and relax."

"No, self repair is ongoing, the nannites are clearing out the dust," the ancient leader growled.

"Then say ouch? Or transform and tell me no face to face mech," he challenged.

Medical sensors failed or gave discouraging updates. Optimus refused to groan, disconnecting relays. He read Will's body language as he talked to Hubcap. 'Trusts him. Obviously towed me here, without human notification. I need medical help and it's either him or Ratchet. Figures. Ratchet takes me apart or him. Wonderful choice.' His attention shifted as signals pinged inbound.

_Signal pulse Elita One. Unable to maintain connection. _

_Prime link active_

_Trackers offline_

_Emergency beacons disabled_

_Distress call relay offline _

_Estimated repair time: Unable to compute. Logic calculator offline._

"Very well," Optimus agreed, giving in. "Major Lennox, please stay close. You can assist and monitor."

"Get you all vacuumed out. Don't do wax and shine. That's your job," Hubcap grinned at the human, as Optimus released his hood catches with a hiss.

Neither noticed the dripping of blue energon onto the ground. The hose was stronger than any earth substance but the metal that cut it was military grade armor moved into a different place by the start of his partial transform. The jarring that cleared the pebbles moved the shifted metal plate back and forth like a saw. The energon dripped slowly, unnoticed to mix with the pebble dust. At the tow yard, George saw it and drew a blank as Hubcap had never been injured. At the campground, it mixed with the stains from earth cars of oil, antifreeze and grease.

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5 Looking and finding

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Hubcap is based on his original canon profile and those interesting characters you meet in life. I hadn't expected to post another part this quickly but Optimus in distress was bothering every bot and person (feels Elita and Ratchet glaring) so here is more.

**:: **As always means internal comms between specific Autobots or all **::** Not hearable by any human or any earth made communications system. Cybertronian is translated for us (Thanks Wheeljack) unless specific for emphasis. CLICK CLANK. Onward to being sneaky and getting caught anyways.

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**Diego Garcia Island, NEST Base, Indian Ocean**

Ratchet started to snap at Ironhide as they entered the hangar when it happened. A single data bit pulse arriving in his medical queue. System protocols flagged it highest priority, routing it instantly into main processors even as outward signals requested additional updates and statistics. It should have dinged as 'urgent attention' but layers of emergency protocols wrapped around that particular electronic signature, overriding everything else.

"What would you know you old bucket of…ohhhh!" he stumbled, literally losing all his internal compensators as the medical program flashed an update. The blue of his optics surged like aqua fire as his yellow and green armored hands flailed for balance. The entire world seemed to tilt out from under him. "Prime!" was the only word gasped out before he fell, bracing last minute on one knee plate to save his upper frame from smacking into the concrete floor.

"Walk much dumb aft?" Ironhide grunted, recording the moment and addin it to his personal files for replay later as he kept walking. "What? You so bored you injure yourself? Some Chief Medical Officer you are."

The CMO ignored him, optics closed, trying to retrieve the signal. "There!" and the bit pulse was gone.

"Ratchet, you functional?" Hound asked, moving closer. The green scout was beginning to worry when the medic remained half sprawled, optics closed. Ironhide heard, turning around and taking the few steps back.

"He swore Prime, then this," Hound gestured.

"Primus or Prime?" Ironhide muttered, quickly replaying the sound clip from the memory core. "He said Prime."

"Optimus Prime?"

"Know any other Prime Hound?" Ratchet retorted as he settled back on his feet pads and leg before rising to stand full height. "Emergency data bit relays. Fragments at best."

"Location coding?" Ironhide grunted, silently signaling to Chromia to bring Elita to the hangar.

"No. Multi distance status relays. The two…wait. Make that three," his optics dimmed then surged again. "Slaggin' micro teases! Sensors are offline or disabled throughout his frame. Not how or why, only a list of non-functional parts. Emergency beacon, distress signal, and transform gears all offline."

The heavy treads of running Autobots approached the hangar then Elita ran full tilt inside, Chromia and Firestar on her heel plates. "Optimus! His signal clicked on then off. I can feel his spark pulse but can't connect to him."

"Possible trap? Signals as bait? Draw us into range with a clearer signal later?" Prowl asked, moving closer to her, his optics intently scanning her for reaction.

"No." The rose colored femme shook her head side to side in a human gesture. "The impressions were fleeting but not battle rage or trapped. I just don't know the rest," she ground out in frustration.

"Can you interlink? See through his optics? Mirror his last data file?" Firestar prompted, feeling for her friend in distress.

"Not at this distance. Our sparks pulse with the same frequency. But not our processors," she admitted, venting deeply.

"She can if we all boost her signal receiver. If you are willing?" Ratchet asked. He knew any mech or femme could interlink power systems with another but at personal cost. She would get their power to add to her systems, risking unstable power couplers at best, a back surge through her spark at worse. Moreover, her thoughts, her very processors laid open to them. 'One-step away from being force jacked, which is why we rarely use it. And an injured bot would offline with the link surges.'

The femme nodded, releasing a panel behind her neck and the side panel in her chest. "Chromia, Ratchet, you be the main interlinks. You know most my secrets already."

_**Arinesworth State Park, Oregon State**_

_**Full night, Campground spot # 2**_

Hubcap's portable lights lit the campsite, the few bugs to survive the cold weather drifted in and out around the bulbs. Will watched from the side, occasionally climbing up and guiding the hose or helping to move a part or cable. He watched as the pebbles and dust blew out the end of the suction hose, allowing parts to slowly realign. Optimus alt mode was looking less a twisted shape and more normal, as normal as a blue and red flamed Peterbilt semi could with dust on its outside and hand prints, both human and mech.

Optimus twitched, causing Hubcap to stop and move back a step, lifting the hose out of the main engine block. "I hurt you old bot?" He asked in Cybertronian.

"No, there was a touch, as if across my spark casing."

"Not me. Nowhere near there and don't go processing anything else! I am not that type of bot. It ain't true that parts retrievers go after the chassis they haul. That is plain rubbish! I had me a pretty femme a time or two, still can," Hubcap huffed.

Optimus twitched again. 'There,' he processed. 'It feels like calling my name,' He concentrated, trying to latch onto the signal.

"Problem?" Will asked, not understanding all their conversation in the native language.

"If there is, it's his," Hubcap pointed, changing to English for his benefit.

"Let me look," Will climbed up on the side bracing, glancing around for any disturbed parts or lines. "Everything appears intact and cleaner," he congratulated. "Quite a pile over there of stones and dust and his engine is half done already."

"Qualified help," the yellow mech quipped, rattling his hose and shifting his finger attachments.

Will started to climb down then halted, as a scent wafted by. "Is that?" Jumping down, he sniffed, then sniffed again. The disturbed dust made him nearly sneeze as he rubbed his coverall sleeve rapidly across his face. Bending down, he sniffed again.

"You part hound dog? Missing them ears son," Hubcap teased, sounding more like his friend George than a thousands of years old mechanical life form. "I ain't got any smeller and my sensors for detection are pretty much useless. Whole battlefield stinks with burnt wires, melted metal and spilled fluids. Last thing you want is detection equipment out there. Got to know who is online and that takes power signature identifiers."

Will started to say something back when saw the drip out of the corner of his eye. Swearing, he went flat, stretching under the truck and running his hand over the gravel. The skin stung for an instant before he hurriedly wiped it on the coverall. Sliding out, he jumped to his feet and pounded on the side of the cab door. "Optimus! You are leaking energon! Do you understand? You have a leak." He held his fingers out towards the semi, the skin already darkening red and reacting from the acidy fluid.

"I detect no leak. Our systems are redundant. No line has air, no pressure gauge is lower than it should register. There is no failure in the fluid interlinks Major," Optimus grumped, distracted with the odd signal echo he could feel in his spark even as communications systems failed to register it.

"Are all your systems online? A single one offline is the one that shouldn't be," Hubcap reminded. He knelt, detecting the spilled energon with his intense optics. "Human is right, that's energon. You got trouble."

**Diego Garcia Island, Indian Ocean**

**Autobot Hangar**

::Easy there Elita:: Ratchet sent, repairing the last power coupling as Chromia held her trembling frame in her arms. ::Almost done::

"Got it!" Wheeljack shouted, his side bars blazing bright white. "They are by the Oregon Washington border area. Tracing Elita's data echo worked." A large section of the displayed digital wall map blazed yellow.

"Why, that has to be hundreds of miles square," Hound commented in a shocked tone. He had driven and explored earth's wilderness areas and knew what a search of an area like that entailed.

"I thought you said we could narrow his location," Ironhide grumped before lightly punching the inventor's white armored arm.

"Ow! I did narrow it," Wheeljack retorted, his bars flashing orange with irritation. He rubbed his plating, checking for dents even as the nannites began repairing the scratched paint. "Silverbolt will overfly the area and Elita and Ratchet will concentrate on locating his signal."

"Not with an interlink," Ratchet stated firmly, as he closed her side panel. "Elita blew three couplers. Until I can replace them the welds will hold, but only under normal use." Medically, he wanted her in sick bay under full recharge to repair. As a friend, he wanted her and Optimus back together as quickly as possible.

:: You coming or I am playing taxi out here for nothing?:: Silverbolt sent to every bot on base.

"I'm going," Elita stated, leaning a little on her feet pads as she shook off Chromia's help.

"Never processed otherwise," Ironhide commented, knowing better than to offer an arm for balance. One by one, they transformed rolling out to Silverbolt, Elita's convertible alt mode in the lead. Ratchet made sure he was the last to load, waving to the Autobots staying at Diego Garcia. As important as Prime was, they could not all fit in Silverbolt's alt mode and the Decepticons could not pick a better time to attack.

**Soundwave Base of Operations**

**Florence Cliffs, Oregon Coast**

The Decepticon communications officer's blue form sat immobile in the chair bracing. The cassettes were perched all around, deep in recharge modes on their bunks, in a nest and even inside an oversize doghouse. Optics closed, servos still, only the insistent hum of his cooling fans betrayed the intense scanning in progress. Millions of data packets flowed through his systems, raided from his satellite link.

"Wait, anomaly detected. Human blog," he stated, stopping the scrolling data and hacking into the blog.

"_I would have arrived sooner but yes, there was another sign of our wonderful economy. A shipping truck broke down and being towed. If the owner spent as much on maintenance as he did on the paint job this wouldn't have happened. Or it's being repossessed and towed back to the bank. Then it can tow all the money the steal from us customers in overdraft fees, ATM surcharges and more._

Soundwave's systems flared with disgust at the attached picture. Not because of the distinctive blue and red flame paint job on the all too familiar semi, or even the human he identified in the tow truck passenger seat. It was the yellow tow truck itself and Autobot symbol in the picture that enraged him.

"Hubcap," he growled. "Current day reckoning. Cassettes, COMBAT READY! OPERATION REVENGE"

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6 Blast from the past

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews and e-mails. Sorry for the delay in posting the next part. I did not plan to leave Prime hanging for so long. * ignores mech growls behind chair * Okay, it is up now and Prime will survive. Onward to big surprises in small transforms.

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**Arinesworth State Park, Oregon State**

**Nighttime, Campground spot # 2**

Major William Reginald Lennox, NEST team leader, decorated and highly trained Army Ranger specialist held the clamped hose line, his arm deep inside the non-moving parts of Optimus chassis while being careful to get none of the acidy blue fluid on his skin. The rough gravel under his back was uncomfortable through the borrowed coverall. The sound of a wolf howling nearby silenced even the present noises of the frogs by the nearby river.

'Four foot predators are the least of my worries tonight,' he thought. The light was soft but clear in a purity no earth made device could copy as he gazed at the inter tangled mechanics above him. What metal he could see through the dust that was. His arm and shoulder muscles began to cramp from holding the line as his feet cramped while tucked under him. Rolling his eyes, all he saw was the rusty yellow metal armored arms of Hubcap on either side as the top of the mech's helm rested against the major's bent knees.

"How much longer?" the human asked, his voice muffled against the massive metal component sitting above him.

"Not long," the ancient mech answered the same way again.

"Could we please have a more factual based update?" Optimus asked his regal baritone soft and almost sheepish to Will's ears.

"A clasp there, a weld here and you won't need me to haul you anywhere but to your femme," Hubcap wisecracked, his tool ends deftly repairing the energon leak. Lying on his back plates, his arms reached around the human, careful not to crush him to reach the delicate line.

"May need you to haul me away if Ratchet ever finds out about this," Optimus said.

"Your medic is a fierce old wreck. Tossing wrenches and yelling with no respect for the injured. I prefer working with the offlined myself. Stay quiet and don't move too much," he adjusted a fitting, reaching up and tugging on cables to pull more line length.

Optimus yelped, shifting slight and raining dust and pebbles down on them both. "Easy!"

"Sorry, you got a sensitive cable there. As I was saying, worked with him a bit on Cybertron. Knows his stuff but cranky like an old elite guard who misplaced his blaster on inspection day," he continued, completing the first repair replacement.

Will nodded but had no idea who the Cybertron elite guard were. Hubcap shifted, his right arm squeezing up against Will tightly as he reached over the human to the line he held clamped on the left. Wrinkling his nose, the human tried not to sneeze from the combination of dust, oil and energon odors.

"I was unaware of the leak," Optimus admitted as the silence stretched.

"Not the first time pain masked an injury," Will stated. "Common enough among humans."

Hubcap shifted, starting to reply then switched to internal comm. ::Disabled the sensors and overrode the safeties, didn't you?:: Hubcap

::I responded appropriately due to my unusual condition:: Optimus answered, his regal tone firm.

::That is a yes youngling:: Hubcap

::I am more ancient than you know:: Optimus retorted back.

::Hah! Turning off important medical stuff is actions of a youngling. They are there for a reason but hey, I can fix ya now or part you out later, always your choice:: Hubcap wisecracked, pulling the opposite line then forming a grin as Optimus twitched and yelped again. ::Line is part collapsed. Not drawing much fluid. How low are you?::

::Main pump is dry, tank on fumes and the energon reserves are at 27%:: Optimus

::That low? How much did you lose!:: Hubcap tensed, causing Will to gasp as the arms on either side tightened in against his body. The old mech shifted immediately, swinging his arms back out.

::I was low before leaving on this mission. Too busy to refill my main holding tank. In addition, I was expecting to be back on base or in communications and relay of my officers if the situation required:: Optimus

::You require energon and soon. Mech your size burns it fast I bet, combat especially. Me, I burn it slower, replenishing with solar power and my own mix about twice a year. Got none made or I would have brought it. The amount in my lines ain't enough to share and make a difference. Sure you don't want to call your friends now?:: Hubcap

::Affirmative:: Optimus rumbled.

::Not much friends then if they cannot help or come looking for you:: Hubcap sent, closing the comm line before Optimus could reply. He'd had about enough of the mech's command attitude. 'All experienced and powerful and still his pride interferes. Should stasis lock his aft and drag it to their base anyway. Pull in, honk my horn and say 'any bot lost a Prime? You should know not to let them go wandering off alone.' He welded the next bracket, securing the line out of the transform arcs.

"Let it go son, its attached," Hubcap said. Will released the clamp, sliding under the raised armored arm and crawling out into open air. Standing, he stretched trying to ease off throbbing shoulder and neck muscles.

"Where do you store all those clamps and lines?" he asked, not recognizing the normal delineations of armor for carry hatches.

"Subspace. Ain't much good on the battlefield if I have to haul a cart behind me or make trips all over unstable areas with my arms full of stuff. Flying wastes too much energon and time traveling means you ain't parts stripping," Hubcap stated, lifting his head the barest amount to focus his blue optics on the human before returning to repairing inside the Peterbilt alt mode. "Hmm, loose cable, fix that," he soldered the end, completing a connection that surged through the automated beacon. Optimus had released the locks on his systems, to monitor the repairs. The signals he had blocked, were able to power back on before his system locks overrode them but it was enough.

**Aerialbot Silverbolt's Cargo Hold**

**Air above Washington state and searching**

"Prime!" Ratchet and Elita yelled in unison, rocking on the axles of their alt modes. Ratchet was the last to load while Elita the first, the others placed between them. The limited space inside Silverbolt's cargo hold kept them from transforming even as their hope soared with the incoming signal.

"Where?" Ironhide demanded from his position second in, hearing the outside air howl lessen as Silverbolt slowed his speed, preparing to turn any direction.

"Give them an astro second lover," Chromia shifted, her back bumper tapping against his front one for comfort.

"Triangulating, narrowing in on it," Wheeljack added, as he carefully kept a space ahead of Chromia's bumper and stayed behind Elita's.

"NO!" Elita screamed as the signal stopped.

"Got closer coordinates," Wheeljack rattled off the numbers, all of them leaning against their restraint straps as Silverbolt literally turned on his side to execute a tight turn.

"And away we go!" he cheered. In five minutes of supersonic flight, they reached the outer boundary of the coordinates. "Dropping you in teams now."

'I hate this part,' Ratchet swore, his alt mode sliding backwards out the lowered ramp. 'I slagging hate falling!' his yellow green hummer alt mode dropped straight down, as the black top kick truck dove grill first above him.

::Love air drops:: Ironhide

::You would!:: Ratchet

**Arinesworth State Park, Oregon State**

**Nighttime, Campground spot # 2**

A fast paced beeping began sounding from inside Optimus' cab console.

"Tell me that's not trouble?" Will asked, spinning around.

"Worse kind of trouble. Proximity alarm. Decepticon signals detected inbound," Optimus warned as Hubcap slid out a short distance from under his chassis, climbing slowly back onto his feet pads. Blue optics went dim as he held still.

"Confirm, one major contact, four ancillary, probably mini bots. I'll handle big boy, you get small fry?"

"With what? A stick?" Will sputtered, pointing at his hip holster. "Even hollow point, impact shrapnel metal piercing double jacket casings only pings off your Cybertronian armor and four against one are not good odds."

"No subspace weapons?"

"No! And he's still stuck," the human gestured at Optimus who had not moved or responded.

"Subspace pullers are down, my swords and rifle are inaccessible but I can move," Optimus' engine turned over, dust sputtering out his smoke stacks before the sound steadied. He rolled forward, turning on his wheels their direction. "I can always use a new hood ornament and my armor, as you pointed out Major, can handle significant blasts. You would be safer inside my cab."

"I disagree," Hubcap challenged, pulling a small weapon out of subspace above his wrist. "Human can use this." The end was square with a long tube and firing trigger.

Will grasped the weapon with both hands before balancing it against his shoulder like a rocket launcher. "What does it fire?"

"Stunner pulse. Took from a 'Con parts grabber. Sneaky bot was in my area grabbing from my supply. We had a… discussion and I kept that. Hit any mech and their systems stall nine astro seconds. Hit them again in that time and nothing. Once time is up, then you can fire but you only got one thousand two hundred and fifty nine blasts to fire for the power pack depletes," Hubcap warned, checking subspace fields all over his chassis. Satisfied, he shifted his alt mode grill into the weirdest hand weapon Will had ever seen. Shrugging, the human took a deep breath and ran around to the far side of Optimus, climbing up on his running boards and aiming over his hood.

Both mechs extinguished their lights, lowering their energy levels into a stealth mode. A whistling in the air was the only warning Will had before light exploded around them. Eyes closed tight, he fired towards the flash, hearing a 'buzz' sound followed by a small thud.

"Laserbeak is down, direct strike" Optimus reported. "Ravage, Rumble and another cassette warrior on the ground. Soundwave is still hovering and facing Hubcap." Will rubbed at his eyes, unable to see anything but flashing spots. "Aim left, your shoulder height, more to the side," Optimus guided softly. "Fire now."

Another 'bzzt' sound and Will ducked, feeling the heat of the counter attack flare across his skin. Optimus snarled, the sound of his door opening. "Get in!" he ordered as Will fumbled by touch, sliding into the cool cab. The seat rocked as he rolled backwards and another blast hit.

"Get ready to bail out."

"Out? I just got inside!" Will exclaimed, blinking watering eyes as his vision began clearing.

"Situation just changed," the mech quietly stated. Will opened the door, bracing for an attack that never came. Light flowed as each Transformer activated their external lights. Soundwave stood nearby, facing Hubcap as the downed cassettes were attended to by the remaining mobile ones.

"Scavenger!" Soundwave growled, his red optics flaring. His blue armored hand rose, pointing one stubbed metal finger at the Autobot.

"I remember you," Hubcap brightened. "Battle outside of Trypticon, work there kept me busy for an orn and a half it did. You had a smashed front, leg missing and optics shuttered tight. Thought you were offline. Looked it, no power readings and in a pile of discarded shells. Big battle, bigger mess after. Do not see too many of those now. Then again, not that many bots left. Armor is better too." He backed up gradually, the furious Decepticon matching, moving away from Optimus and Will.

"Online. You stole," Soundwave growled, patting his simulated glass chest front.

"You scanned offline and didn't react as I started stripping. Moreover, I never messed with your language centers, you sounding mechanical is your choice, nothing I did. Even if I had, you can always get replacement parts."

"Scavenger!" he repeated, the red deepening to almost black in his optics.

"You said that. I called the medics soon as you twitched blue bot. Confirmed your spark was glowing and began repairs. The real medics were fixing you when your cassette friends attacked, driving them off. Seekers hauled your shell away. Not my fault they dropped you on your processors later," he said.

"Pit reaper!" Soundwave screamed, his entire case vibrating. The cassettes remained where they were, unsure of what to do as their normally emotionless mech teetered on the edge of going berserk.

_To be continued…._

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_I promise to post quicker than this last time for the battle. Going to be good. Reviews are love. _


	7. Chapter 7 Forest Fight and Friends

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. They provide inspiration and encourage me how many of you guessed plot parts. I switch back and forth between the fights as they intertwine (I still do not like writing battle scenes with tracking every bot and what they do) without being too confusing. More chapters coming. Onward to fighting and winning _not_ being the same thing.

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**Arinesworth State Park, Oregon State**

**Night, Campground spot # 2**

Optimus watched Hubcap turn and run for the depth of the trees, his narrower yellow frame moving between them as the enraged Decepticon Soundwave crashed into the trees, not even slowing. He winced, hearing the trees crash to the ground even as sounds of scraping metal echoed back and the weapons fire began. The cassettes remained stationary, focusing on their now mental boss. Will braced against the front of Optimus alt mode bumper, waiting for who would charge first. He knew he could not stop them all in time but would go down fighting.

"Will," Optimus hummed softly. "I called for help. And forgive me."

"For what?" Will whispered, knowing it made no difference even if he yelled but the soft volume felt right.

"Costing us our existence. You should not pay the price for my pride," he murmured.

"I don't mind dying, I made that decision the day I joined the military but I worry about my family. Sarah is strong but Annabelle is only a child," Will answered, looking down at his dirty blue coverall then shrugged. "Least I don't have to explain about being out of uniform."

Optimus remained quiet, his processor twisting in shame even as thoughts flowed super speed through his core. 'What have I done? Elita, Ironhide, Bumblebee and the others will carry on but slag it! I should have known better. I am their Prime and the best chance for us to win and I do this? I should have called and faced them at the start. What would they have done? Yelled or thrown wrenches? They are my family.' Images of them flashed from his memory cores and his resolve strengthened. 'I'm not offline yet. Transform gears are partially unclogged and my reserves are low but I can still roll.' His engine shifted higher, its pitch deepening as the Autobot symbol on his grill aligned with the nearest mech.

"I am giving you one chance to surrender," his regal baritone boomed.

The cassettes twitched, backing up and closing the distance together. Huddling, they faced him, weapons ready.

**Mountain Highway, 10 miles from the Campground**

Ratchet watched the black Top kick alt mode in front of him slide around the steep curve, crossing the centerline and nearly into the far guardrail again.

::Watch it 'Hide! You alt mode is top heavy even without your armor!:: Ratchet

::Shift it up medic! Prime's in trouble and yelling for backup:: Ironhide

::You will be yelling if you crash and roll:: Ratchet

::Only rolling I'm going to be doing is over Decepticons:: Ironhide

Ratchet vented, his hummer alt mode bouncing at the higher speeds. Elita and Wheeljack updated their position, even further away but closing fast. Chromia chimed in, complaining about being stuck inside Silverbolt as he flew back towards the signal source. The medic snorted, wondering what they were about to roll into even as his systems readied for combat and emergency repairs. 'Let us get there in time, that is all I ask Primus. In time.'

**Arinesworth State Park, Oregon State**

**Campground Space # 2**

Ravage snarled, his feline form crouching low before springing directly at Will. The human fired once, diving to the side as the motionless Decepticon sailed by and hit the ground to bounce, temporarily stunned. Optimus rolled ahead, taking multiple hits as the other cassettes hopped up and flew out of the way. Their weapons scarred his armor without piercing it.

**Arinesworth State Park, Oregon State**

**Forest Area**

"If you 'Cons worked as hard at getting along as you do carrying grudges this war would be over!" Hubcap yelled, throwing his old chassis to the ground to avoid a blast.

"Exterminate!" Soundwave yelled, firing blasts at all angles without regard to targeting. The flashes were red lighting against the deep blue of his armor, reflecting across his simulated glass front. Trees exploded into splinters, the smell of burning pitch filling the air. His feet pads shifted, tearing up the pine needle strewn area as he stomped and spun.

"Get over it already," Hubcap growled, rolling over onto his back plates amid the low bushes. Smirking, the mech subspace a metal disc, pressing in the center to trigger the charge. With a faint hum, it began glowing green. Tucking it against his palm, he transformed into his tow truck alt mode, spinning his back tow hook to face Soundwave. "I'm sorry!" he yelled.

"Apology insufficient. Scavenger!" the angry mech yelled, raising his arms and gesturing wildly without firing as the moonlight outlined his square form.

"Not that, this!"He said, exploding both sets of metal chain from under his back bumper straight at the Soundwave's chest.

**Arinesworth State Park, Oregon State**

**Campground Space # 2**

The sounds of rapid metal clinking followed by a high-pitched scream had them all looking towards the forest. Then a new sound, one familiar and very close began.

Will gasped, not believing the sounds he was hearing. 'He's not?' he thought as Optimus began transforming, twitching and making horrific noises as small grey pebbles rattled out. Dust began venting from every major section. A quick glanced showed the cassettes optics wide and jaw gears slack.

"Is he …?" Rumble

"Yup. Slowly and what are those?" The other mech cassette focused on the small pebbles.

::Secret weapon? They register as nothing:: Laserbeak sent, struggling to shake off the blaster effects on his systems, hopping by Ravage's motionless form. In the darkness, their red optics providing the greatest light.

Prime braced upright then blinked his blue optics before his entire frame seemed to stiffen and wobble. The cassettes watched his arm gun and feet pads, anticipating weapons fire or movement as his optics dimmed. Will backed up one step, opening his mouth to yell as his brain realized what was happening as Optimus began to tilt forward. The cassettes realized it too, engaging emergency energy to their movement centers as Optimus shadow covered them as he fell.

KAWHAM!

Will wiped at the dust covering his eyes, coughing from the dust Optimus impact with the ground had kicked up. Bobbing lights identified three of the cassettes were mobile. 'Where is Ravage?' he thought then saw a small black paw sticking out from the right side of Optimus chest, illuminated faintly by the moonlight. 'Never mind.'

Rumble cheered first, joined by a crowing Laserbeak. The other mech raised up then fell, one leg twisted badly at the middle joint plate. Laserbeak stiffened as Will blasted him then screamed himself as his weapon melted, burning his hand.

"Any last words fleshling?" Rumble asked, lowering his weapon instead of firing again and strutting forward to close the distance. His metal hand grabbed the front of Will's dusty coverall, lifting the shuddering human up to his face. "Give me what I need," he snarled as his red optics narrowed then snapped to the side. A powerful blast catapulted the mech away. Will gasped, his skin tingling with the energy as he fell back.

"Pick on some bot your own size," a familiar mech voice growled as heavy treads thudded closer.

"Ironhide?" Will sat up, seeing the ancient black bi pedal warrior kicking Rumble into the air like a football.

"Any other mech in the habit of saving your aft?" He quipped. Ratchet knelt by Prime, running scans even as his rifle remained poised in his arm. A tree cracked, falling as the other fight continued. A flash of bright green and Soundwave's metal chain wrapped frame shot high into the air before crashing down, breaking trees and shaking the ground with the impact.

"Energon anti gravity shifter. Haven't seen one of those in an eon," Ironhide stated.

"Hubcap!" Will shouted as the forest went silent.

Distant treads sounded as Ironhide and Will faced the forest. Ironhide grunted once, before turning around to help Ratchet flip Prime over onto his back plates. "Look, a new window cling," he teased, pulling a flattened Ravage off Optimus' simulated glass front. Will jumped, the Decepticon's form sliding past him on the ground to disappear into the darkness.

The treads got louder and he tensed, holding his sore hand against his stomach. He held his breath, as a heavy dark object moved towards them. Hubcap walked into view, turning his external lights on, holding a crunched arm in an echo of Will's stance.

"You okay?" Ironhide nodded his way, armored hands still bracing Optimus as Ratchet worked.

"Better than boom box there. Though its charge the disk, throw then count to three not count to three then toss," he wiggled his crunched fingers and grinned. "Been awhile Ironhide. Chromia still blasting?"

"As ever," the black warrior mech grinned. "On her way, be here shortly." He shifted his attention back to Ratchet.

::Prime functional or Hubcap here going to get work?:: Ironhide

::Functional but a mess. I am going to slag his aft once he's recovering in med bay:: Ratchet growled.

"Thank you for leading Soundwave away. That was brave of you," Will said.

"Not brave, smart. Three reasons," Hubcap began counting on his fingers. "One, I knew his weaknesses and strengths of his frame and two, I keep the best gadgets I come across. Exploding chain launcher, super speed transform gears, stealth targeting and anti gravity shifters." He finished, staring up at the night sky.

"That's two, what is three?" Will asked.

"Need I say it? The Decepticons always lose in the end," the old parts retriever grinned. "Best business supply I ever seen."

"Right," the human said, edging closer to Ratchet. "Can we go home now?"

Ratchet scanned him, his multi faceted eyes spinning and started to give a diagnosis when a flash of light in the night sky had them snapping up to look as a purple jet appeared literally out of the air, dropping down over the ruined forest. Seconds later, it raised, Soundwave's chassis wrapped in cables. Another flash and they were gone.

"Thundercracker," Ironhide identified. "Teleported them both out."

Another jet engine sound began, focusing their attention eastward. Silverbolt's alt mode flew into view, flashing his running lights. Hovering, he lowered to the top of the trees, angling over the widest campsite, his nose extending over the river to touch down on the other side. His rear ramp lowered, Chromia transforming and jogging closer, weapon ready.

"Others are inbound and you could have saved me some fight," she complained, waving a hand to Hubcap in greeting.

"Ravage for a floor rug?" Ironhide quipped then pretended to ignore her obscene gesture.

"Help me lift Prime; he's in stasis," Ratchet ordered.

"Got him good. Slag it, he knows better than to take them on alone," Chromia growled. "I get tired of him being their target. Can't the bot go one orn without getting hurt?"

"What is with all the pebbles?" Ironhide asked, shaking his footpad to dislodge them before they got inside the gaps in his armor.

"Campground," Hubcap replied, nodding down at the graveled ground. "Big mech, slide and scoop," he gestured the motion with his head.

"Ahh," he paused then shrugged, accepting the answer. Ratchet's optics narrowed as Will and Hubcap looked anywhere but at him.

_To be continued…_

_NEXT: Start of a Prime's misery_


	8. Chapter 8 Back but not home safe yet

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Optimus is rescued but is he safe? Not by a long shot. And my bad, Skywarp is the teleporting seeker and not Thundercracker. I will fix that soon. Estel is the sparkling of Silverblade in the main _If an Autobot do Not do the following _rules Chapter 61 – 66 story arc. New addition to the earth forces and the bots have been designing protections for her and Ironhide's new mech, Ram.

In addition, for fun, can you guess who Hubcap is related too? _(in this fic at least) _His personality was the clue. Onward to being home and being loved. Yah right.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

Optimus pulled out of recharge, optics trying to focus in the dim light. He was flat on his back plates, facing a plain ceiling but without pain. 'I'm not outside. I remember the attack then nothing,' Sensors came online, detecting the presence of Elita sitting in the main room of their private quarters. The door to their recharge area opened, her rose-colored frame a welcome sight.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured, sitting up as she moved to his side.

"Hey yourself," she grinned, raising an armored hand and deactivating an energy field surrounding the recharge berth. He raised an optic ridge as it shimmered into sight then folded down and out of existence. "Wheeljack designed it as a safety. Low-level force field to keep the sparklings from falling out of their areas. I agreed to field test it."

"Wise application of old technology," he said, stretching and verifying all systems were functional and responding. He rolled on his side, bracing on his arm and facing her. "How are you doing?"

"Relieved her mech is safe," her lip plates formed a smile even as her optics held a certain mischief. "Have your energon ready," she reached and pulled down a large cube sitting on the nearby shelf. He accepted it, drinking it and handing it back. She traded it for another full one, handing that to him. He drank it, listening.

"Prowl and Ironhide need to review tactical updates and plans with you. Ultra Magnus is in command and there have been no major incidents. We were racing to your location when your signal reached us. I'll explain later. We arrived in time to see Hubcap defeat Soundwave then Skywarp teleported him out. You flattened Ravage and the other cassettes crawled off, literally. Ratchet vacuumed out your chassis and used an emergency energon drip. I would avoid him and med bay for a while. Not even Wheeljack's cleaning drones could combat all that dust. We moved you here to recharge and get you behind his reach. Your armor is damaged enough without adding wrench dents. And you, my dear spark, are one heavy mech to move."

"I've heard that before," he sheepishly admitted, accepting a third energon cube to drink.

"Now, you are to play today, and play nice then Ratchet will check on you later," she stated, trying to look stern even as the edge of her lip plates twitched with amusement.

"Play?" he echoed, tossing the empty drink cube onto the side table. "My femme," he leaned, reaching and grabbing Elita close. "Playing is not what I was processing," he murmured, running his lip plates across hers. "I am online and you are in my arms."

She gently pushed on his simulated glass chest plates with both of her hands. "Settle down junior, as the humans would say. Three days in med bay before Ratchet released you into my care and you are not cleared for action yet. Now that your systems are recovering I have work to do," Elita leaned back, unable to break his grip. The outer door chimed and he vented, releasing her.

He shifted upright, letting his feet hang off the berth as she went to their main door. 'I need the wash racks. Wonder if I can talk Elita to join me? Then again, she is acting odd.' He shrugged her behavior off, content to be online and back at Diego Garcia.

"Your spark sitter is here," she announced as Chromia waved to him from the main room.

"Very funny," he grumped, sliding off the bed and walking towards them. The doorway energy field activated, charging against his armor, forcing him to recoil. "What the?"

"Sorry, but it's for your own good. We have a few things to pick up in the main room before you can come out and play," Elita explained.

Irritated, he folded his armored arms and glared at both femmes. "I am a Prime and a warrior mech. This," he gestured towards the field. "Is for younglings, now release it. Enough is enough."

"No," Elita said, facing his defiant stance with her relaxed pose. "You obviously have a systems glitch that Ratchet was unable to locate and we need to monitor you."

"I have no glitch," he said.

"Running off on a mission without being able to read your energon tanks levels? Even a sparkling a breem old knows it needs more fuel. Or when they hurt from the pain coding engaging and sensor relays to keep them from hurting themselves further. You displayed you cannot and Wheeljack, Kup, First Aid and Ratchet could find no logical reason including but not limited to a virus infection, system malfunction, coding glitch or processor core error. You obviously need watching until we determine the cause of the problem," she smirked.

"Wouldn't want our only Prime hurting himself," Chromia smirked alongside her friend. Her deep blue armor contrasted the rose commander as they faced him.

"Let me out now femmes. This is not a game," he growled, snapping his battle mask into place.

"Oh, he's so cute when he is angry, good thing his weapons and subspace pullers are offline," Chromia chuckled, patting Elita on her shoulder plate before walking out of view of the doorway.

"This is revenge for not calling for assistance sooner?" His optics narrowed.

"Revenge is tying your blue and red aft to a targeting practice to vent our frustrations on! Or leaving and let you worry if we are functional and try to handle everything alone when we leave and never mention where and never check in!" She snapped. "When we were on Cybertron and you disappeared on a mission I knew lack of contact was for stealth and worried if I would ever lay optics on you again." She bowed her head, her distress evident. "But I knew Ironhide was with you and he would offline before letting you and the same for most of those under your command. Even a prisoner, we could have found you." She faced him optic to optic. "Tracked the Decepticons, retrieved the remains, as you were always a prize to them. Here, on this world, I would not even know where to look." She gestured in all directions. "Decepticons, rogue humans, and secret government agencies, Primus! You could fall off the road into a deep canyon and be knocked into full stasis and be near undetectable!"

He shuttered his optics, feeling ashamed. His battle mask retracted as his anger melted away. "I never meant for this to happen."

"I know," she vented hard, facing the wall away from him.

"Can I come out now?" he asked, his regal baritone without the command snap. His bright blue optics focused on her.

"Yes you may," she touched the wall beyond his view, the force filed disappearing.

"I need the wash racks, and help," he suggested, wiggling his optic arches at Elita.

"Later spark of mine. Ironhide needs you first for command review. I am taking your place at budget meetings today. Thought you wouldn't mind missing those. I will see you at the wash racks mid afternoon." She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his waist as he hugged her. "I'm glad you are safe. I was scared."

"I will always return to you," he murmured, feeling the hum of her system and the pulse of her spark.

Fifteen minutes later fund him waiting outside the Autobot quarters main door. He nodded to human soldiers walking past, relieved in a way they would not know. 'My team I can handle,' he processed. A glint of light off metal caught his attention to the right and he moved that direction. Two steps and a tingle across his armor made him stop, checking systems for possible attack.

"Wandering off again Prime?" Ironhide pointed a metal finger at him as he stood to the side.

"Explain," he said, optics narrowing.

"Tracker for Estel once she is mobile. Get too far away from a parental unit or watcher and the sensor tingles the frame." He held up his arm, a square sensor blinking on it. "Alerted me to your movement and provides me a way to track if you are out of optical range. "

"We have sensors and targeting locks beside optics," Optimus reminded, not amused. He shifted, feet pad braced with his stance wide and shoulders straight lined. Impressive in height and breadth even as his weapons refused the command to snap out of subspace.

"Sensors can fail, like detecting when in danger or triggering automatic distress relays," the black armored warrior mech reminded.

Optimus took two long strides to go optic to optic with his oldest friend. "I am a Prime and should be treated with respect and you will remove the device now."

"Can't. Not sure where it is or what it looks like. I'm, a weapons specialist, not a medic," he answered, keeping his expression neutral.

::RATCHET!:: Optimus

::You yelled?:: Ratchet

::I have had enough. Remove the distance sensor now:: Optimus

::Why? It is for your own good:: Ratchet

::Remove it or I will 'good' your aft into the next orn!:: Optimus

::Cranky this morning. Had your energon yet?:: Ratchet

Optimus snarled, controlling himself physically as the nearby human soldiers turned to watch him. He deliberately formed a smile on his lip plates and backed away from Ironhide.

::I am ordering you to remove the sensor and for every bot to stop treating me like a newly sparked mech:: Optimus

::Until medically cleared, you have no authority to order and until I am certain your choices were only stupidity and pride on your part, I am not releasing you off this base or from under our care. Elita would have my spark spires for a lawn ornament if you come to harm and I would be neglect in my duties as your friend and Chief Medical Officer. Hubcap and Lennox are fine by the way. Stop by the main hangar if you want to see for yourself. Otherwise, unless you need medical care, I have work to do:: Ratchet closed the comm line.

Optimus vented, processing every way to detect and remove the lockouts then smiled, knowing which bots could help. "Main hangar," he stated, walking that way then stopping as his entire protoform frame tingled. Ironhide snickered, careful to hide any expression as the Prime turned and glared at him.

"Lead on," the ancient black warrior mech gestured before moving forward.

The walk was short and without incident. Entering the hangar, he responded to the humans' cheerful greetings. Major Lennox waved, his mouth full of doughnut from a plate laid by his workspace. Master Sergeant Epps poured a fresh cup of coffe and slid it the major's way then gestured toward the other Autobots. "We are taking care of him. New guy is interesting."

Hubcap was near the back of the designated Autobot area, talking in native Cybertronian with Mudflap and Skids. He rose up, gesturing both mechs over.

"My mech Volan became a warrior and found him a femme and had twin mechs. My boys!" He beamed, pointing at the minor twins.

"Grandpa!" Skids grinned, pointing at the old yellow mech.

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9 Wash Racks with Elita

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and yes, another wash rack scene. I do seem to have these in my fics. The one place besides their recharge berth they get alone couple time. I write Elita One as Elita since there is no Elita Two or Elita Three and it is shorter to write. As always, rated T for teen. Thanks to reader suggestions, worked some in here from the reviews. More to follow.

_RECAP: "No," Elita said, facing his defiant stance with her relaxed pose. "You obviously have a systems glitch that Ratchet was unable to locate and we need to monitor you."_

_"I have no glitch," Optimus said._

_"Running off on a mission without being able to read your energon tanks levels? Even a sparkling a breem old knows it needs more fuel. Or when they hurt from the pain coding engaging and sensor relays to keep them from hurting themselves further. You displayed you cannot and Wheeljack, Kup, First Aid and Ratchet could find no logical reason including but not limited to a virus infection, system malfunction, coding glitch or processor core error. You obviously need watching until we determine the cause of the problem," she smirked._

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

Optimus, last living Prime and Commander of the Autobot earth forces rubbed at his throbbing chest plate. 'I knew Jazz could find and remove that tracker. Wheeljack may have designed it but Jazz is our best spy and not only planted them, he knew how not to be tracked. And I owe Ratchet for welding it to my interface core processor. Took two breems to undo it without damage to that processor or my spark spires above it. Primus I am glad it is gone out of my chest. Tingling ever time I moved away from my watcher was annoying.' He tapped above his transform cog, waiting for nannites to ease the distress signals. 'I am never complaining to Ratchet again though. Jazz's claws rip more than hold and his laser cutter heated my cogs.'

"Hey Junior! You're blocking the road," Hubcap's gravelly voice sound from behind him. Optimus stepped to the side of the recreation-building door, allowing him to pass by with Skids and Mudflap. "Kids here think they can beat me at them online games. Hah! Set a new score and show them real fighting later." The smaller green and orange mechs bounced down the hallway, slamming the game room door open, right into Ironhide.

Their twenty eight foot plus leader winced at the string of profanities and threats from both sides. 'And they think I need watching?' Two loud metal clangs followed by a crash kept him from turning around. Hubcap yelled, outdoing them all. Grumbling sounds echoed down the hall before the door slammed open again.

"Then keep them the slag out of my wires!" Ironhide stomped into view, his massive square frame almost colliding with him. "And how are we doing Prime?"

"We should keep an optic open every time recharging for awhile. Never know what might happen," he smiled down at his third in command.

"Meaning?" his blue optics narrowed dangerously, arm cannons rolling.

"Play nice sparklings," Chromia encouraged, sliding her arms around her mate's black armored waist plates. "Or I'll confine you to quarters."

"As if," the weapon's specialist snorted.

"Hmm, keep that up 'Hide and I'll confine you to the recharge berth with those padded cuffs," she purred.

"Really? And could we use the..."

"Ahem," he interrupted, folding his massive blue and red flamed armored arms across his simulated glass front. "Too much information and this is a public place."

"He's right," she giggled and moved to stand alongside.

"Sorry, when you're older you'll understand," Ironhide teased, wrapping his arm around her as they strode away.

::Elita to Optimus:: Elita sent over their private comm line, interrupting him.

::Meeting finally done?:: Optimus answered, grinding his lower jaw gears as his weapons and subspace pullers refused to answer his commands.

::Finally. I'm heading for the wash racks. Am I interrupting?:: Elita

::Only Ironhide from getting his aft kicked:: Optimus

::What else is new? See you shortly:: Elita sent then closed the comm line.

He reached their wash racks first, double checking the temperature settings. 'Elita likes warm and never hot, normal pressure with extra cleanser. Must be a femme thing. Times on Cybertron I would have welcomed any wash rack at any temperature. And full blast and steaming hot reaches down to my protoform nicely.'

Sounds of the outer door opening and the weary groan of his femme reached his audios. Distant clunks sounded as datapads were dropped onto the metal table, causing him to smirk. A single spin of the dial released the soft spray. Her pink and white armored form paused at the doorway, the relief evident on her faceplates.

"I thought Chromia was watching you?"

"She's spark watching Ironhide," he stated, beckoning her forward.

"You need watching, he needs anger management. How did you get away from them?" she asked while looking him from helm down to his feet pads.

"They are enjoying time out in their quarters, together," he winked an optic.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as the true meaning sunk in. Snickering, she moved closer and ducked under the spray. Optimus reached, grabbing the nearby bottle of metal cleanser off the shelf and squeezing a glob onto the cloth. He rubbed her shoulder plates, creating a sudsy wash.

"Feels good. I want to stand in the water and rinse off this entire morning," she vented, relaxing into his hands.

"Too much water and you might drown," he teased, scrubbing at a patch of dirt.

"We don't breathe and can survive in water. Ironhide crash-landed in a swimming pool remember? However, I would like to drown that budget committee. You should have heard their complaints! Whined worse than a group of upset sparklings," the femme grumbled.

"I have heard them, those meetings are monthly remember? First time you were stuck with one," Optimus chuckled. The white bubbles ran down her back plates and aft before falling to the floor. His optics followed their path before snapping back to her shoulder plates.

"We have unlimited funds from their use of our stolen technology and they gripe over every penny spent," she waved her pink armored arms, sending bubbles and drops of cleanser everywhere.

"On Cybertron," he began, adding more cleanser to the cloth before continuing. "I had worse budget issues. We had an oversupply of laser launchers but no laser power packs. They were removed from the approved list in error and had to get nine official approvals before they could be ordered and shipped to the front lines," he remembered, moving down to scrub her back and side plates.

"Mmmmmm, what happened?"

"I took those nine committee members on a short tour, having the soldiers accompanying armed with those. A minor attack happened and our weapons ran out quickly. We switched to hand to hand combat to protect them and drove off the opposing forces naturally," his tone was level but the light skipping touch of his movements alerted her.

"This...attack happened inside our boundaries? I know you." She glanced up and over to focus on him. "You would never risk delegates, officials or civilians in an active combat zone. Our forces would never allow an armed task group inside that far to reach you. And Ironhide or Prowl carrying laser blasters? It was staged."

"Staged is a harsh word implying deception. It was a living example of what our troops faced on a smaller, more personal scale," he chuckled, reaching around her to wash her front armor then stopped, as his fingers encountered raised metal. He dropped the cloth to trace its path. Knowing every inch of her, Optimus stepped around and leaned closer. His optics focused on a silver metal seam visible in an armor gap. "Elita, what is that?" He traced the barest edge as she shivered, focusing her blue optics down.

"What happened?" his strong armored hands flexed on her shoulders. His concerned venting sounded over the gently falling water.

"We located you by interlinking. Chromia and Ratchet were the mains, but I blew three power couplers. Ratchet welded them so we could find you."

He bowed his head, his systems unsteady before he could control his vocal processor. "Welded but not repaired and..." He stopped as she laid a hand against his trembling lip plates.

"It was worth it. We arrived in time," she whispered. "Promise to take care of me while I'm recovering and I can shorten the med bay time."

"I promise to never leave you again Ariel. Forgive me," he begged.

"I did the moment your optics onlined and saw me. Your smile and spark call were enough. However, we are up to our ankle gears in water, you dropped the cleanser cloth to cover the drain," she pointed out.

"Pit!" He bent down, scrabbling to pull it free of the suction.

"Apparently not or the water would have drained there," she laughed, leaning under the falling spray to rinse off suds.

_To be continued..._

_NEXT: Dealing with Ratchet, med bay and acting up. _


	10. Chapter 10 No means no from a Prime

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Please set **Story Alert** in the lower left corner to be alerted to updates as chapters post.

::Means internal comms only heard by those transformers or on a general frequency they all can tap into too:: Name of sender always on end. Diego Garcia Island is the NEST base in the Indian Ocean with a main hangar for the Autobots and various buildings designed and built for their size including Ratchet's med bay, an all Autobot recreation room, wash racks and personal quarters away from the human soldiers also stationed on the island.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

**AUTOBOT WASH RACKS**

Optimus watched his sparkmate toweling the water drops off her arm before shifting his optics resolutely to the ceramic tile wall of the wash racks. 'This is not the time to indulge ourselves. She has duties and I am still in recovery.' His memory core replayed their most recent private times together before he focused on the present. He turned, opening his lip plates when the towel smacked his faceplates, half-wrapping around his blue side antennas. "Hey!"

"I said, are you functional by yourself if Ironhide is with Chromia?" Elita repeated. Her freshly clean white and pink armored femme figure gleamed in the light.

A dozen answers filtered through his processor before he smiled at her. "Yes. Are you able to handle Ultra Magnus in charge?"

She crossed her arms across her metal plated chest before forming a smile on her lip plates. "I could consider him an upgrade to my current mech model."

"Very funny dearest. You are not getting rid of me that easily," he said, dropping their towels into the cleaning chute.

"I never said it would be easy, only possible," she teased back. "See you in our quarters mid day?"

"I will be there. Comm me if you want me."

"I always want you. It's if I need you that you should be worried about," was her parting shot. A familiar energy signature drifted into range as she left. He glanced down at his chassis, confirming no remaining cleanser suds remained and opened the door to the hallway. A very large square chassis blue, red and white mech waited there.

"Are you busy Prime?" Ultra Magnus greeted.

He raised an optic arch, keeping the smile from his faceplates. "I'm sorry, the number you reached is temporarily out of service. If an emergency, why waste time asking me when you are in charge?"

"I see your sense of humor is still functioning. How about helping me with all the reports?" the taller mech asked, falling in alongside to walk down the hallway and outside.

"Comes with the job of being boss bot," Optimus pushed the door open, scanning the area and sky above for potential signs of an attack, Decepticon or human.

"Since when did Prime mean "Paperwork Ready In time Minus Errors?"

"Since we landed on earth and joined NEST," he replied. Internally, his delight at another bot dealing with the paperwork requirements was hard to contain. "Ask Prowl for help, he is second in command."

"I did. He slid the datapad and reports back to me quoting rules about doing assigned duties, not cheating and passing work off unfairly on other bots. How do you stand him?"

"On his feet pads. His wing doors prevent him lying down on the job," he teased. Groaning, the other mech glared at him as he became serious. "Fate rarely calls on us at the moment of our choosing Magnus. You are a soldier and commander. Being a leader until I am cleared for duty is practice for a time you may have to face without me there. Can you handle this?"

Unconsciously, Ultra Magnus straightened during the last sentences, the years of his experience strengthening him. "Until you are cleared old friend. I am holding you to that."

"Holding me is Elita's job," he reminded merrily.

"You have been among the humans too long to acquire their humor. Enjoy your rest, I will keep things safe until your return," he promised, striding away. Another familiar energy signature entered his scanner range and he grinned, stepping back inside the main entryway and waited.

Red Alert tapped on the edge of the rolling door, announcing himself. "My energy signature identified me before I even entered weapons range, especially to his advanced systems. However, it is his orders to make our transition easier and adapt the human habit of knocking before entering. When do they transition to help us? Stop signs, speed bumps and slow down for construction zones,' he processed while waiting.

"Good morning Red Alert, please come in," the ancient mech greeted him warmly, gesturing for him to enter the building.

"Prime, I need your assistance," he began.

"It's Optimus," his firm tone startled the younger bot.

"Sir?"

"Not sir, just Optimus. My name is Optimus. Try it with all three syllables. Opt…i…mus. Though the middle part "i" actually sounds like 'a" in the human tongue," he instructed.

"I know your personal designation sir and I need," he began again.

"Then use it. It's not that hard to remember."

"But sir I need…"

"My name is Optimus. My title is Prime, Commander and indirectly 'sir.' I am relieved of duty so call me Optimus. You are still the main security officer under Prowl and can be called sir by the lower ranks. Now what did you need?" He asked with a gleam to his normally deep blue optics.

"I needed assistance but if you are relieved of duty then that means," he gestured towards the main hangar.

"Ultra Magnus has command responsibility. All procedural requests are his department."

"Hmm, true. Then I am to escort you to med bay. Ratchet assigned me spark sitting duty though I hardly believe it is necessary, sir...uh, Opt…Optimus," he stumbled across the wording, fighting with his own internal logic circuitry.

"No."

"No? You do believe watching is necessary? Your appointment is scheduled for later. I thought," his blue optics widened.

"No as in I'm not going anywhere but to the lagoon beach. You are welcome to follow if not then leave," he stated firmly before walking away.

"Why?" He struggled to keep up with the longer strides. Optimus shrugged his square blue shoulder plates human style. It was hard to keep the grin off his faceplates at the smaller mechs confused vocal tone.

"As your spark sitter, I can order you, I guess?" he tried, his tone lacking conviction. His chassis bobbed up and down with the extended steps as he tried to stay alongside on the narrow path.

"Yes you can. You can also throw me into the brig for disobeying that order. If you can get me there," he formed a smile with his lip plates. He stopped at the path's end and shifted into a fighting stance with his arms at his sides. His feet pads rotated out and flattened to sink further into the sand. His center mass dropped fractionally lower to ground his center of gravity as he braced. 'I should have done this in Mission City against Megatron. Not even he can move me when I lock down.' The smile disappeared as the two pieces of his battle mask slid together, locking with a discernible click sound.

"You leave me no choice. I order you to come with me or I will have to use force. I have been trained by Ironhide and Prowl in grappling and submission holds," the smaller red and white mech stated before marching purposefully up to the bigger mech. He surged ahead the last step, armor slamming into armor as his arms wrapped around the other's chest plates. His hands scrabbled for a grip against the military grade armor as his feet pads floundered in the soft sand. He lacked the arms length to reach all the way around to complete the intended bear hug. Optimus watched with amusement until he tried shifting his feet pads back and grabbed lower.

"Ahem! Not even my spark mate has her hands all over me like that," he grumbled behind his battle mask, raising an optic arch.

Red Alert felt his faceplates heat with embarrassment as he stumbled backwards, automatically tucking both hands behind his back plates. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to that is I did but not in that way! No, I would never that is oh slag."

"Command officers should not swear. Sets a bad example," the ancient Prime reminded while not moving.

::Help!:: Red Alert sent frantically to Ratchet.

::What did you do now?:: Ratchet

::I can't do anything, which is the problem sir. Prime is refusing to obey my orders:: Red Alert

Inside med bay, the green and yellow armored mech looked westward, the direction of the comm signal. ::Order him as a spark sitter:: Ratchet

::I did! He refused:: Red Alert

::Use your processor and find a way. Moreover, do not comm me again until you are both outside the med bay double doors or one of you needs me as CMO:: Ratchet sent, closing the comm line with a burst of static.

On the beach, Red alert's blue optics narrowed as he crouched, running probable placements for a flip hold. Optimus' deep blue optics narrowed, recognizing the prelude to an attempted grab and vented out. He watched, feeling disbelief as the security officer rapidly covered the short distance to him.

CLANG!

::Medical emergency on the beach, lagoon side. Red Alert is down:: Optimus

::For the love of Primus! What happened? You glitch out his logic center?:: Ratchet

::He tried to tackle me and knocked himself out. My chest armor ridge left a sizeable dent in his helm:: Optimus mental tone was soft and decidedly sheepish.

::Bring him to med bay and try not to jostle him around and add further injury:: Ratchet sent, automatically pulling up his medical records.

Five minutes later, Optimus stepped through the double doors of med bay, the red and white mech in his arms. "Lay him on the first medical berth then get out of the way," Ratchet instructed, fingers already trans morphed into tools. Removing the dented helm plate, he discarded it onto the nearby rolling cart. Muttering, the medic opened a chest panel, confirming spark power and energy relays.

"Not a complete knockout into stasis, more a temporary surge fail. How is your chest armor? Scratched or dented from thick chipped here?" When he turned around to look, Optimus was gone.

**OPTIMUS AND ELITA'S ROOMS**

**AUTOBOT PRIVATE QUARTERS**

"House call?" Elita repeated, stepping aside to allow Ratchet into their private quarter's main room. "I just got in. Locked in meetings all morning."

"It is a human tradition largely forgotten. I have found sparklings do better in their own quarters. Less terrified of med bay and its sterile settings and association of pain," he explained.

"Maybes it the big bad medic that hides there," Optimus said, appearing in the doorway of their private recharge area.

"Keep it up and I'll remove something you hide," he threatened.

"Mechs, play nice. I have work to do," Elita reminded, sitting down before the desk and the waiting datapads.

"He started it!" they both said at the same time and pointing at each other. Optimus sat on the recharge berth, his battle mask retracted and a neutral expression on his face.

The yellow green medic scowled, knowing the pose meant nothing. "Red Alert will recover. The impact did not temporarily offline him. It jarred a loose circuit that triggered a synapse that triggered his recharge timer without the proper coding."

"I am relieved he is okay. I would not want my spark sitter to come to harm," he said.

"Wait, if he was your spark sitter, and is in med bay and you are here, where is your tracker signal?" he realized.

"Right here and I assume it is returnable under warranty?" Optimus smiled, reaching in a leg hatch and removing the remains of the tracking tingle part. Melted metal slagged its side as deep claw marks marred the rest of it.

"What happened to it? It was welded under your chest plates," he blinked, his multi faceted optics spinning in the beginning of a medical scan. "Open your chest plates."

"No. I haven't had my energon lollypop for being a good mech," he said.

"Open those chest plates or I will set your optic shutters to seal shut every time Elita appears in your visual range," he threatened.

"You are cruel."

"All field medics are. The only way we keep sane when faced with offlining and broken shells. Or pick who gets treatment when there is not enough help available," he said.

Optimus vented, releasing the locks allowing his chest plates to rotate up and to the sides.

"What the slag! Who did that? A human and two forks would not cause those mars. One of your spark spire tips is slagged. Are you in pain? Any system failures? You didn't disconnect the pain sensors again?" he shifted to medic in an astro second, metal fingers trans morphing into repair tools.

"A friend did it, minor pain, no system failures and sensors are online," he reassured as Elita entered the room to stand behind him, a worried look on her faceplates.

"Hmm, melted and ripped meaning a bot with claws," he reasoned, applying metal sealing gel.

"OWWW!"

"Testing the sensors before coating the tips."

"I told you they were online," Optimus winced.

"And I told you not to play with medical overrides," Ratchet reminded. "I will leave the tracker out if you return to med bay to replace that melted spire."

"No."

"Now Prime," the medic began.

"No," he said again, crossing his arms over his open chest. The plates began sliding back into position under his armored arms.

"Don't be stubborn and you need to close those chest plates after I finish repairs. Not before," his vocal tone depended.

"NO! I don't want to!" His blue optics held a gleam of amusement.

"Is it medically necessary to complete the repairs this instant?" Elita asked.

"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answer?" he asked.

"Why do you try arguing with a Prime who refuses to budge?" she challenged the medic back.

"Ratchet, I will agree on one condition," Optimus surprised them both.

"Which is?"

"You repair Elita's blown power couplers first. She has suffered enough because of me," he admitted, bowing his helm. A pinging of the door sensor had them looking towards the main door. No energy signatures displayed, indicating the visitor was human or cloaked. Elita remotely triggered the door, her hand moving towards her weapon in subspace even as the mechs did the same

Major Lennox stood there. "Am I interrupting?" He called. Looking up and around.

"Not at all, minor repairs," Optimus rumbled in his regal baritone as his battle mask retracted.

"I need Ratchet. Sarah is sick from the flight inbound. I am worried it is something more than that. She says she is okay but she's been queasy for a few days now. Before coming here," he said, hesitant to go beyond the main room.

"I will verify her condition and I will get back to you later Prime," the medic stated, his tone threatening.

_To be continued..._


	11. Chapter 11 Ratchet's medical lectures

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. This chapter is more technical than originally planned but not everyone or every bot is familiar with transformer parts. It's one thing to call "a hand" a "servo," it's another to discuss internal medical replacements. Blame being in the ER three times with my sick mom this past couple of weeks for the inspiration. She finally has a diagnosis, not a good one but survivable with surgery when she gets better.

I know some authors have live sparklings carried around by the femme or even a mech (I am not going there). This is one explanation why that would probably not work for an "alien robotic energy based transfer between parts and armor over a protoform type sentient advanced race." Please check my profile for further general information and references from tf wiki I used in researching.

This story takes placed before "If an Autobot do not do the following" part 1 later chapters and Elita's Revenge. Optimus and Elita have no sparklings as of yet. Onward to medical lectures and realizing how different two races from two worlds can be.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

**OPTIMUS AND ELITA'S ROOMS**

**PRIVATE QUARTERS**

"You are a brat," Elita accused, handing him an energon cube. The rose femme's command presence was equal to the larger mech she faced.

"Me? An ill-mannered annoying immature youngling? I think not. My manners are always impeccable," Optimus stated firmly in his regal baritone. He drank the acidy blue fluid, noting his energy reserves were nearly full.

"Like carrying Red Alert after he was knocked out, dumping Ultra Magnus helm first into the paperwork requirements without warning and giving him the fate chooses you speech? Don't!" she raised an armored hand, palm plate out to stop his protest. "I know you. It is for his own good, I agree. Mister I'm only a soldier is our equal when he wants and I admit," she smiled. "Keeping a foot pad planted against his aft plates motivates him but you. You are a brat. And irritating Ratchet is not good manners or good sense."

"I'm not worried about our chief medic," he said, finishing off the energon cube.

"Is Ironhide right? You have blackmail on him?" Her blue optics narrowed suspiciously.

"Blackmail?" he sputtered before starting to chuckle. "On Ratchet? Absolutely not. He knows our secrets." His optics focused on her before pausing. "You really processed that?" he roared even harder, falling onto the recharge berth. His red and blue armored form rolled back and forth on its surface.

"It wasn't that funny," she muttered, spinning on her feet pads and stalking out into the main room, taking the empty cube with her. "You're welcome for the fuel too."

**AUTOBOT MEDICAL BAY**

"I don't understand. Elita needs parts replaced. Why is that going to take longer than the time required repairing Prime after his battle with Megatron in Mission City?" The human's voice and his body language practically shouted his confusion to the advanced optics and diagnostics of the transformer standing nearby.

Ratchet resisted the urge to rush his news to the man, wanting him to understand their race. He formed a smile with his lip plates and gestured for Will Lennox to sit down. Neither found the notion of a chair normally found in a living room sitting on the middle of a giant desk strange.

"Our power couplers are much like your heart valves. Except human hearts have four valves and we have seven couplers. One for our processors, one for when our battle cores engage, one for memory cores, two for our movements including transform and one for our subspace pullers. The last is a spare that handles the overload from the first six and an emergency backup when one of them fails. We can operate on less than the seven but there are risks. With Elita down by three, she is severely limited in combat and realistically I should have disabled her transform and battle cores. "

"Is that why you paired her with Wheeljack during the rescue mission? Keep her safe by not straining her system?"

"She refused to team with me and he is the next mech capable of emergency repairs in the field. Repairs should have been completed when we returned."

"She objected to that I believe. Wanted to ensure Optimus was fully recovered first," Will smiled, remembering her choice comments on the matter, heard by half the base at the volumes Ratchet and she had used. "So replacement is like a bypass surgery?"

"Not exactly," he grimaced. "The parts are much more complex and individualized. Our energy signature is how we identify each other. The power couples surrounding our spark interlink our entire system to create that unique signature. I need to replace Elita's couplers, bring them into sync with her system one by one before releasing her."

"What happens when the couplers get damaged and fail in battle?"

"That is how we lost Jazz in Mission City," Ratchet vented. He overlaid the older broken image of the spy and saboteur with his last medical scan, in one piece and joking the entire time. "While five of his couplers held, two failed to protect the back charge from being ripped apart, fracturing the spark containment. The essence that was Jazz shattered apart internally. We can load data records with full programming into any shell but it took the Allspark energy to return the life force that was Jazz."

"I wondered about that. We slammed the Decepticons repeatedly to barely knock them down, one wound of ripped in half, and he offlined. Uhm, what did you want to talk to me about? Not that I don't find this fascinating but what about Sarah? Did you find out what is wrong?" He ran a hand through his dark hair, faint worry lines showing around his eyes.

"Sarah is pregnant," Ratchet stated.

For a few seconds it did not register, and then it did. The ancient medic watched with hidden amusement as the human gasped, his entire system responding with increased energy normally reserved for the battlefield.

"She is? Really?" He asked as a wide smile formed on his face.

"Approximately fourteen point zero eight orns from now, six months human time, she will deliver pending continual functioning of both her and the fetus," he displayed the confirmation readings on the medical datapad as proof.

"She's pregnant," he repeated.

"I will be her physician. I am not letting them do barbaric bloodletting and Primus knows what else under the disguise of tests. A drop tells me what I need and my scans the rest. I can determine the gender at this early stage based on DNA."

"She's pregnant. I'm going to be a father again," he beamed, still ignoring the datapad as he stared straight ahead smiling. The medic vented lightly, closing the screen down and returning it to his desk drawer.

"Her current nausea is morning sickness and should abate shortly. I will continue to monitor her progress. I suggested a standard femme monitoring implant and she refused. I recommended a healthy diet and exercise plan and she quite expressively described where I could place it. Physically impossible for my design and demonstrated the undue influence Ironhide's language has had. Even my threatening to secure her long term in med bay failed to achieve her cooperation. Major, are you listening to anything I am saying?"

Will nodded absently, still grinning. Ratchet vented again, rising to his feet pads and offering an armored hand to the human. He lowered the human to the floor, guiding him gently towards the main doors. Leaning over, he opened the human sized insert in the wall next to the standard double doors. "Why don't you attend to your spark mate? She should be resting in your quarters. You will have much to discuss." His scanners tracked the man's departure out the door, down the hallway and outside where his team waited anxiously to hear. They cared for Sarah and worried when their commanding officer acted worried.

"Woohoo!" Cheers rang out from the outside, discernible to his acute hearing. Heavy Transformer feet pads sounded in the hallway as he covered his optics, swearing.

"RATCHET!" Ironhide yelled, looking for the medic the instant the double doors opened.

"My audios are capable of hearing your creaking hip joint. Do not shout!" Ratchet reminded, turning his back to him and sitting down at his workstation.

"Is Sarah carrying a sparkling essence? Is it true?" He confronted him, the twitching of his black armored fingers evident.

"Yes she is, though pregnant is the correct human term."

"Four days and another Annabelle? Or Andrew?" Ironhide's faceplates reflected his joy.

"Six months human time and I have not determined the gender as of yet. Sarah refused to allow me to take the necessary blood sample," Ratchet said, opening the medical datapad and displaying the scanning data.

"Six months? The military," his blue optics narrowed as his cannons rolled. "They intend to block us from seeing the new sparkling? Why it's safer with us," Ironhide's tone echoed rage and irritation.

"Nine months is a human pregnancy and Sarah has carried a spark for almost three. She was off base and therefore none of us scanned her and you haven't visited at the farm in that time span or we would have known sooner," he explained, tapping on the datapad to bring up the required informational files.

"Of all the slagging! Nine months? The shortest lived most fragile race we encounter and they take nine months to make a sparkling?" he sputtered, settling down to read the data.

Across the airfield, the minor twins finished listening, exchanging a high five gesture. "I told ya bugging med bay would be good bro!" Skids crowed. He danced in a circle.

Mudflap's optics plates drew together. "I know nothing 'bout human sparklings."

"That's because they babies not sparklings. Try looking it up."

"I will, be smarter than you!" he razzed, slapping the back of his twin's helm.

"Hey! I am the smarter twin!" He protested, pulling away and rubbing at the back of his helm.

"Then I be better looking," he wiggled his optics.

"We twins, we look the same," he pointed to the matching square feet pads, rounded shell bodies and to their faceplates.

"Hah! Humans like green. Go green, think green, even their money is green. Green is better," Skids challenged.

"I ain't ever heard of green popsicles. Humans like the orange crème better. Even little kids," Mudflap retorted.

"What about babies? Lot of files in da database. Ratchet got this one marked. Delivering babies. Natural or assisted childbirth. Natural I guess?" The mech accessed the medical database, scrolling through the titles.

"What is assisted then?" Mudflap questioned, linking in to access at the same time.

"The Allspark, like duh."

"Oh. Premature deliveries, normal deliveries or large deliveries," he read the next level of file choices.

"That an easy one! Large deliveries. They spark mates, have a big spark merge." Their blue optics dimmed as the file data downloaded directly into their systems then began scrolling across their vision.

Epps chuckled, chatting with the other soldiers about Will's news when the screams rang out. The gun on his hip snapped into his hand, his feet already in motion. Running towards the sound, he and the others pelted for the far tarmac while scanning the sky, sea and all around. Only two downed mini bots were visible.

"Skids! Mudflap report!" Epps yelled, holstering his gun. Neither responded.

"What happened? Sonic attack?" One of them guessed. The men exchanged a look, as the twins remained curled on their sides.

"Unknown, wait for Ratchet or one of the others. Rest, fall back until we know the situation," Epps commanded, watching as the Sergeant radioed for medical assistance. Skids was faintly muttering and he crept closer to hear.

"I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home."

"Systems glitch? He keeps repeating the same phrase," he told the Sergeant, relaying the information onward. They looked around as powerful engine sounds became clearer. Optimus, Jazz, and Ratchet raced into view from the west as Hound, Sideswipe and Ironhide raced from the East in their alt modes. Silverbolt soared overhead, verifying longer range. His silver jet mode disappeared as he turned on wing tip for another sweep. Slower than the first, Hubcap rolled into view, his engine fainter but as angry sounding. Transforming, they faced all directions, armed and ready. The two command officers and Hubcap knelt by the twins.

Gently for a bot his size, Optimus curled his massive armored hands around Mudflap, gently pulling the mech out of his tight ball. "Easy youngling, Hubcap is here. Let Ratchet check you out."

"Oh for the love of Primus!" Ratchet swore, lowering Skids back to the pavement from his grip. Hubcap immediately wrapped his arms around his grand bot.

"Diagnosis?" Optimus asked.

"ID ten T factor," he said then rolled his optics upwards as the assembled mechs waited. "I D I O T as in idiot or dumb aft. They downloaded files on human pregnancy and their processors looped. They could not handle the concepts. A reset to the data links will bring them out of it."

"The files that complicated?" Hound asked, returning his hand blaster to subspace. The green armored scout relaxed when Ironhide's cannons quit rolling.

"Punk aft twins," Ironhide complained, wanting to fight. The black armored warrior moved away, relaying a signal to stand down and return to base to Silverbolt.

"Why don't you all have a look at the files?" Ratchet suggested.

"Belay that!" Optimus ordered. "They are flagged by the human medical staff as containing sensitive information."

"Sensitive for us to see not confidential. You have seen humans ripped apart on the battlefield and the terrible injuries they sustain fighting alongside us. Consider this the civilian side of their existence," the medic explained, opening a wrist port connection on Skids.

"Let me verify first," Optimus said. Data downloaded and scrolled across his optics. His jaw gears dropped as he instinctively moved his blue armored legs closer together. He shuddered, wiping a hand across his optics. "I never…wow. Human femmes endure that?"

"I know you studied the basics of their existence, in the medical classes I required the first orn on this planet," he said, closing the link as his patient's blue optics flared to full brightness. He moved back as Hubcap helped Skids to his feet pads.

"I did review the data. I understood how humans are made and carried by their parental units. I never considered their...exit. That was not in the introductory lessons or the battlefield additions."

"Pregnant females are not allowed on the battlefield generally. And humans do not have sliding chest plates and Transformers do not carry a live protoform but that is still not an excuse," Ratchet reminded, moving on to Mudflap. His yellow green armor stood out vividly against the orange armor as he worked.

"Why not?" A human voice called from the back of the humans gathered to watch.

Ratchet snorted, his side mouth plates swinging. "How? Our self-repair is a smoothing of scratches or minor torn lines. Not able to reconstruct large damage areas."

"What's the difference?" Another human asked.

"Smoothing over the molecules of metal to cover a scratch would strip and dangerously thin the metal for a larger area. No, heavily damaged or missing armor, even parts of our protoform are only replaceable. How could we produce an internal protoform?" he asked, completing the reset before helping the mech to his feet pads. Mudflap leaned unsteadily to the side before Hubcap pulled him close, hugging both his grand mechs.

"Leech off the metals of the parent?" Epps guessed.

"How?" Ratchet stood, his blue optics spinning rapidly while accessing databases to lecture. "I have metal struts inside my deepest protoform of the strongest metals. Little bits of metal are going to move inside me to reform into a tiny sparkling strut combination? My optics contain over ninety moving parts with specific coding for each level of vision." He pointed at them, engaging the shutters before dialing them in and out at the center iris.

"Bits of pulled metal from my frame are going to recombine into their exact reconfiguration in miniature? More bits to create the rest of our systems then dump out the sparkling out into existence fully formed? Where would I carry it? Under my chest armor by my spark? Transform alone would shift and crush it."

"Femmes are built differently. How about in their abdomen or their chests?" The sergeant asked.

"Their plating is military grade armor over a protoform same as ours. Their chest plates slide for merging not expanding on flexible joints to accommodate a sparkling shell. Any movement near or around the spark of the essence creates dangerous instabilities. Imagine what a shifting shell would do," the medic continued.

"Even if the first shell could be created inside us, what about the next set of shell upgrades? Why would they be necessary? A transfer of our sparks and core systems into larger chassis would be unnecessary if we could grow the parts required for existence. Bumblebee's vocalizer would have self-repaired. No, sparklings are a newly formed energy essence not a miniature Transformer ready to receive weapons and a transform alt mode."

"But with your advanced technology?" A Lieutenant asked.

"The Decepticons experiment with forcing the aging process in gel pods but it requires massive amounts of energon and the resultant beings are not fully functional. They have a high mortality rate and lack the developmental abilities of our intellect and maturation. I am thousands of your earth years old; the enhanced sparks the Decepticons harvest last a few hundred years with continual maintenance needs, which they do not supply. They are lives to be thrown away in combat as a brute force army not a raised and protected generation. No, we do not grow and carry our young like biological beings with reproducing cells," Ratchet stated firmly.

"Saying it like that, it makes sense, I guess," Epps admitted.

"Are you both okay?" Hubcap asked his mechs as they remained in his hug. They nodded. "You come home with me for a rest. Do a little fishing."

"What's fishing?" Skids asked.

"Swearing while sitting in the sun trying to catch a tiny biological creature where you lie about the size of it to throw it back. Lots of fun, you'll see."

**OPTIMUS AND ELITA'S ROOMS**

**AUTOBOT PRIVATE QUARTERS**

"I gave them permission to leave for an earth week," Optimus explained to his sparkmate. She listened intently while removing the cover on their recharge berth.

"Ratchet is right. You should have known. You have seen human TV and movies right? Portraying a birth with the screaming actress?" Elita asked, discarding the dirty cover into the laundry square.

"I processed it was dramatics for the audience, not a factual representation," he admitted, handing her the clean cover.

"They do tend to over dramatize don't they?" she giggled. "Imagine if they did a movie portraying our adventures."

"My spark couldn't take it," he chuckled, and then became serious. He moved closer, reaching out and pulling her form next to his. "Do you want a sparkling?" He leaned his chin plates gently on the top of her head.

"Other than the one holding me right now? Hmm, I don't know if I could handle feeding, changing tanks and dealing with you too."

Smirking, he moved his fingers across her armor in sensitive places.

"Oh! Stop! That tickles," she writhed, laughing as her sensors tingled.

"Metal does not tickle," he chuckled, swinging her onto the berth while tickling. The sounds of their laughter echoed across their rooms and into the hallway.

Outside, Bumblebee stopped, tilting his helm sideways at the sounds. "What are they doing?"

"Never mind youngling. Keep walking," Ironhide grinned, pushing the young bot forward.

"No one explains anything," he complained.

"Ask Ratchet. He'll fill you in, whether you want to know or not," the ancient weapons specialist grinned.

**SOUNDWAVE BASE OF OPERATION**

**FLORENCE CLIFFS, OREGON COAST**

The Decepticon Hook removed a set of metal links out of Soundwave's chest cavity. The green mech's right hand was transmorphed into a laser cutter, separating out the coiled mess. His red optics scanned, targeting the fastest way to continue.

Soundwave lay flat on his back plates on the berth in repair stasis. The blue armor on his arms and legs remained scratched and dented with char marks. A pile of metal towing chain links, broken tree limbs and leafy debris accumulated on the floor below as the two Constructions did repairs.

"Who gets to tell Soundwave that Ravage is gone? He needs to build another one," the other mech said.

"Where is the last shell? I didn't see Skywarp bring him in," Hook commented, removing another piece of chain.

"Unknown. Last sighting had him crushed under Prime's bulk according to Rumble. Probably in the hands of the human soldiers and dropped in an ocean abyss."

**GEORGE'S ADVANCED TOWING**

**REPAIR GARAGE**

George grinned, lowering the metal shape into place. Gnarled aged hands shoveled small loads of the wet cement from the wheelbarrow around the base supports. The legs of his blue work coverall showed white cement dust and the one knee darkened where he hand kneeled by the garden hose to add water to the mix.

He added the last of the cement then paused, leaning on the shovel to rest. "Yup," he patted the highest part. "You make a fine mailbox for a garage, yes sir ye do. Hubcap be right proud." He ambled back towards his garage, the empty wheelbarrow creaking. At the road edge, the partially flattened figure of the Decepticon Ravage stood on all four paws firmly cemented down, his jaws holding a metal mailbox.

_To be continued…_


	12. Chapter 12 Elita down and arrival up

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews. A shorter update and the next chapters are in progress so stay tuned by setting story alert in the lower left corner! Now, a very special cameo appearance by someone very close to Optimus. And one you will never guess.

Previously, Elita linked in with Chromia and Ratchet to locate Prime's signal and blew three power couplers. Sarah is pregnant and Optimus is temporarily relieved of command. Onward to family complications and friendships that keep you sane.

TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS

**DIEGO GARCIA NEST BASE**

**OBSTACLE COURSE**

"Explain the purpose of this betting pool again," Ironhide rumbled, his arm cannons barely spinning but enough to make the newer soldiers nervous. The large black armored mech stood braced, angular feet pads wide as he listened. Anything concerning his human family had his attention, especially with protective protocols activating around the human femme, Sarah Lennox and the new life she carried inside her.

"It's a guess on how heavy and long the new baby will be," Epps began, tapping the inked on squares on the right side of the paper.

"Ratchet would win, he and Wheeljack design the sparkling shell and they are standard based on spark size. Humans are different?" The ancient weapon's specialist vented lightly at their chuckling.

"Hence the reason the date and time are the first bets. Kids come when they want, not on schedule and nothing is standard. Length, weight even hair or eye color are guessable. The more details you get right, the more you win. It's a guy thing to help celebrate," Epps stated.

"And the femmes?"

"They wrap presents for the new baby. White cloth diapers, tiny brushes to clean the bottles and female stuff. Everything the new mom needs except sleep," Lieutenant Mosley added. The dark haired soldier and father of four felt as comfortable discussing babies as discussing the sabot launcher cradled in his arms.

"Would that include knuckle spikes or EMP defensive pulses? Sarah lacks adequate personal protection," Ironhide speculated.

"Ah, no. Breast pumps, breast pads for in between leaks," the hardened soldier glared at his men's snickers. "It takes a real man to change a diaper and not heave."

Ironhide rumbled his agreement, remembering the twins refusing to change Bumblebee's waste tanks as a sparkling. A talk with Ratchet would fill in the necessary gaps of his knowledge. After the Skids and Mudflap incident, no mech accessed the human records on pregnancies.

**AUTOBOT MEDICAL BAY**

"I didn't know you practiced gardening," Optimus greeted, blue optics narrowing in as Ratchet knelt, the other's yellow green armored hands carefully scooping dirt around the plant's roots. The small square of dirt on the left side of the med bay outer entrance held three spindly spiked plant stems; two holes dug for the burlap covered waiting plants. A tarp covered the metal carrier on the door side.

"Humph. The hands that keep your spark working can also assist biological life. And no stepping on these flowers. They are roses and need time to grow," Ratchet replied, his hands expertly upending another bare root bundle.

"I would never," the ancient Prime huffed, crossing his arms across his chest plates.

"If memory serves, and it does. You crushed flowers before flattening a fountain at the Witwicky residence," the medic reminded.

"Newly arrived to earth and my concern focused on retrieving the glasses to save the Allspark, not Judy's flowers. Which Sector Sever stole and I replaced. With a lovely hanging basket of yellow perennials."

"Lovely hanging basket?" Ratchet repeated, pausing in his work to stare.

"The online ad stated that as the main reason to purchase them. Judy thanked me for them," he rumbled.

"And when the Allspark activated her kitchen devices, that same hanging planter left a bruise on her forehead. These flowers are dangerous only if grabbed. And the finishing touch," Ratchet uncovered the wheelbarrow, scooping out double handfuls of pebbles.

"Are those?" Optimus shuttered his optics, feeling echoes of pain across his system.

"Yes, from your little adventure left scattered in my med bay. However, I only need a wheelbarrow full. The rest are filling in the newly poured stone path from the lagoon to the tarmac, except for the two barrels waiting in storage."

_Autobot Command __Frequency__ Activation Link _flashed across their systems at the same instant. "_Optimus Prime to the main __hangar__. We have a situation_:: Ultra Magnus

**DIEGO GARCIA ISLAND**

**AUTOBOT HANGAR**

"NORAD reports an incoming Cybertronian signal," Ultra Magnus greeted Optimus, gesturing up towards the main data screen. The mechs stood side by side, their armor colors of red, blue and white complimentary. Magnus optics slid to the right, noting the still figure and engaged facemask of the Prime. Without realizing, it, he straightened full height, squaring his jaw gears as the data stream updated.

"Do we know which side? Autobot or Decepticon?" Major Lennox glanced from the NASA screen towards the nearby Transformers.

"Negative. Satellite readings confirm an inbound trajectory, nothing more," the platform technician replied, the clicking of his keyboard lost under the sounds of Ironhide, Chromia and Arcee rolling in and transforming.

"Assault force?" Master Sergeant Epps asked quietly, exchanging a worried look with Will.

"No," Ultra Magnus answered, his blue optics darker as he scanned the dimensional readings. "The design is ancient and small. Used for interstellar hops for one, two mech teams to carry data or basic supplies. I doubt it is weapon size or armored beyond the standard asteroid shielding."

"No cargo of troops then. Who would use a shuttle? I thought you guys all hot comet landed, carrying what you needed in subspace."

"Cybertron's skies use to be filled with shuttles, cargo haulers and passenger flitters to the moons and beyond," Optimus reminded.

"Back to the basic question. Why a shuttle?" Will asked.

"Contents," Ironhide guessed. "Too fragile or dangerous to risk the impact. Any answer to our hails?"

"Negative. However, they may not have the latest encoded signals. Anything else will alert the Decepticons. Therefore I advise we meet them at the landing site," Ultra Magnus stated, looking over at Prime.

"I'm not in command, you are. Take the job, make the decisions," Optimus reminded.

"Really? It was you who okayed the twins to visit with Hubcap off base."

"You wanted them to stay? My mistake," Optimus formed a hidden grin behind his battle mask. "I believe they have submitted numerous requests for officer training and now would be a good time to implement it under your capable teaching. Though they already know how to throw themselves at their enemies."

"I'm more powerful than most any bot in our forces and I handle larger threats accordingly including physical contact and hand-to-hand combat. Mudflap and Skids engage in reckless, daredevil antics while being argumentative and noisy," Magnus countered, turning to face him directly.

"Hmm, reminds me of some bot else," Optimus smirked, pointing a stubby metal finger.

"I am not noisy," he objected.

"Your tread is heavier than mine."

"Or argumentative."

"I'm only a soldier and not worthy to lead, carry the matrix though every other bot tells me otherwise!" Optimus quoted, moving closer to stand footpad to footpad with the larger mech.

"Are you mocking me? I am your superior officer. I can lock you in the brig or your playpen," Magnus threatened.

"Would you? I could use the rest while you write the post action reports and reassure the humans on all the follow up video conferences. Borrow Grimlock's crayons to make Elita a get well card for her surgery later this week," he smirked, the expression hid behind his battle mask.

"It's too dangerous to risk you until cleared by Ratchet," he said, the grinding of his jaw gears clearly audible.

"Then have our Chief Medic restore my systems if you fear for me," Optimus suggested, scratching idly at his cheek plate.

The bigger mech's optics narrowed as his cooling fans kicked up another notch. "I fear Ratchet not you brother. He would weld my aft..." he hesitated, remembering the humans and Autobot femmes nearby. "In a way I don't want to process. You may attend as a neutral observer. Nevertheless, your subspace pullers, weapons capabilities and battle computers will tie into mine. No activating unless the situation calls for it under my judgment."

"Then drive safely. I would not want you to crash and my systems offline because your heavy weight careened you off a curve into a ditch. Though you can borrow my bear bot when you get scared," Optimus teased.

"Don't push it or I'll tell Elita about Rimini's Four."

"That's blackmail brother."

"I learn from the best. Directed motivational remembrances you told me once. And if we are done discussing this," Magnus gestured towards the open hangar doors.

"Waiting for the order to transform and roll out. You are in charge," Optimus said.

**ACROSS BASE**

**RATCHET'S OFFICE IN MEDICAL BAY**

The entrance chime dinged, announcing a visitor. Grumbling, Ratchet focused on the outer room instead of his medical journals. The energy signature of Elita flowed across the sensor, the static edge to the signal worrying him. "Elita?"

"My vision needs adjusting," the rose-colored femme wobbled on her feet pads, shaking her head, as though trying to adjust a loose gear.

"What's wrong exactly? Any other symptoms?" Ratchet asked, the centers of his enhanced optics spinning faster. The faintest hum sound increased as medical diagnostics activated, cross-referencing her actions against her medical files.

"I'm seeing grey bars across my vision. And my spark itches," she murmured.

"Metal doesn't itch. What were you doing earlier?" his armored hands gripped her shoulder plates, keeping Elita still as he scanned her.

"Recharging. I'm tired, filling in for Optimus."

"Slag it! The repair weld is failing, allowing energy to seep into the blown couplers. No arguments. You are going into surgery now!" Ratchet turned his head, optics flaring brightly as medical equipment activated around the room, swinging into position.

"No, not without Optimus. He's on a mission, and he promised me," Elita struggled, her hands barely pushing his away.

"You need repairs now. Optimus can deal with it when he returns," Ratchet ordered, swinging her onto the nearest medical berth. Gears moved, transforming his left hand into a coding injector before plunging between her armor into Elita's protoform.

"I called…backup…she's coming…" Elita's vocal faded as the medical coding dragged her into stasis.

**MAINLAND**

**LANDING ZONE**

At the projected landing coordinates, the Autobots waited, spread loosely around the area in their alt modes. The few scrappy bushes and stunted trees on the edge of the desert area left little cover. The shuttle descended slowly, the battered sides displaying the Autobot symbol.

::Transform and surround. Could be a trap:: Ultra Magnus ordered.

They waited as the shuttle touched down, the dust settling as a ramp slid out from its lower edges. Then the shuttle hatch opened, rising straight up before folding back into the top curved metal. A small ancient femme hobbled forward into view.

Optimus vented hard, nearly spark attacking right then and there. The other Transformers glanced from her to their shocked leader and back, unable to identify her. His lip plates quivered before he took a step, returning his ion rifle to subspace.

The femme looked up, and up to meet his optics. She stared intently, as though looking into his very spark. "Orion?"

"Mom?"

_to be continued..._

_TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS_

_Yes, Optimus has a mom. In a 1985 Pepsi soda pop commercial, his parental femme leaves him a note, signed "mom." Other than her existence in that one commercial, little is known and she is rarely mentioned. That is about to change._


	13. Chapter 13 Mom and med bay

Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews, please keep them coming. Let me know what you like or want to see more of. Yes, Optimus has a mom. She is still online, still feisty and on earth. If you think Elita is a handful, meet mom. How will he tell her about his life? Or explain his latest actions? What secrets can she reveal from his childhood?

Reminder: As the new Decepticon leader, Megatron shot and nearly offlined three bots named Orion, Dion and Ariel. Once repaired they became Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus and Elita One. Optimus mom here is his adopted mom, not his biological spark maker. He is from the dynasty of the Primes but raised by her and Alpha Trion as their own.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

**DIEGO GARCIA**

**NEST BASE, AUTOBOT HANGAR**

"You heard correct General Morshower," Major Lennox faced the secure communications screen per protocol. Not a crease showed on his uniform, his hair combed back and the proper stiff erect posture of a lifetime military officer delivering a standard situation report. "Optimus has a parental femme and she is here visiting." The soldiers sharing the communications platform pretended not to overhear while hanging on every spoken word.

"Must have missed that memo," the General answered, grinning. The older white haired officer contemplated a surprise visit to meet her then refrained, his work schedule too full to rearrange for curiosity.

"I'll keep you informed sir; it looks to be an interesting visit. In addition, we did get clarification on one point. She is Optimus parental femme but not Ultra Magnus. Though they refer to each other as 'brother,' the term is imprecise. Optimus is his brother in the sense they are the same age and have been best friends most of their entire existence, even before the war."

"There is a friend that sticks closer than a brother," Morshower quoted.

"Precisely," the Major nodded, thinking of Megatron.

**LANDING TARMAC**

"How much do we tell her of our current situation?" Ultra Magnus pondered, his optics trained skyward even as sensors linked directly into the satellites and early warning systems for tracking. Standing, the large mech dwarfed the cargo planes parked alongside, the human crews inside with the other NEST soldiers giving the Transformers privacy as they waited.

"If she asks, answer her. Otherwise, do not volunteer anything," Optimus shrugged, scuffing the ground with a footpad like a youngling caught being bad. He had reluctantly let her fly the shuttle to Garcia Island, Silverbolt and the Aerialbots providing escort. Her lack of an alt mode meant using the shuttle, his enclosed semi trailer left at the base and Ultra Magnus open cargo hauler too bumpy and uncomfortable for a being of her advanced age.

"Then I can explain you left on a mission half fueled, slid into a gravel pit needing rescue by a parts grabber over twice your age before going into battle totally unprepared," Ultra Magnus began with a knowing smirk on his faceplate.

"I am never unprepared. Limited in weapons and movement but I did take out a Decepticon," Optimus interrupted, crossing his arms and glaring. The glare that sent humans fleeing, Decepticons looking for cover and ignored by the mech that knew better.

"You fell on Ravage, a drone smaller than a mini bot. Granted, he's left good size marks in my ankle plating but seriously Prime, that is hardly a victorious battle ending. Being carried onto Silverbolt leaving a trail of rocks behind," the larger mech reminded.

"They were a few pebbles and if she asks, tell her the basic truth. You are in command pending my clearance from Ratchet and Elita's release." Optimus helm turning towards med bay, his optics darkening at his mate still there under medical supervision. He remembered rushing to her side, the rose-colored shell bare of its upper armor, wires and connections everywhere with not one energy pulse of her vibrancy filling it. The medical berth resembling a funeral platform more than the rest on which his sparkmate healed as panic threatened to shake his famous stability.

"Is Elita?" Trembling, his hand clasping hers as optics desperately read the life monitors. The med bay's secure walls reflecting back the sounds of his deep venting, hiding even the soft steps as Ratchet approached.

"Stable on full support. I had to disengage all but one coupler for the procedure, effectively wiping out her energy signature. Her processors, memory core and most important, her spark are intact but in stasis. Once the welds settle I can reactivate the couplers in sync over the next few days. Even that Elita can feel in her spark you are near. Can you sense her?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes, barely but I can feel her," he said, easing the tight grip on Elita's hand. The soft presence of her love flowed wrapping around Optimus' spark. His optics closed, everything turning inward to share his need for her.

"Meet the shuttle then return here. Elita is safe in my care," the medic stated.

Those same optics opened, the starry night sky lit by a distant light surrounded by others as though the sparkling gem in a celestial necklace. Magnus shifted on his feet pads, his hands moving from bracing against his hips to hanging down back to his hip plates.

"Ratchet reassures me Elita will online tomorrow and be aware by mid day. Rest easy old friend," Optimus comforted.

"It's not that. I care for her; she is my kin and only other living clan member. But do you realize Elita being down the next orn for repairs gives them time to talk?" the city commander pointed out.

"And? The femmes have spent time together before," Optimus challenged.

"Running from Decepticons, planning major assaults and evacuations is not spending quality time together. Do you know what happens when femmes talk? They share everything! I spent nineteen vorns as an Elite Guard and one of my duties included the Allspark Temple. Do you know how many femmes I guarded in the outer foyer? While they waited with sparkling shells to see if they would leave with a new life from the Allspark? Nothing is beyond femme discussions. I overhead conversations to melt your power relays. And your sparkmate and parental femme are a combination I do not want to process," Magnus shook his helm, hugging his own chassis as though a chill wind crossed his systems.

"Quit acting like a sparkling. We are fully mature fourth shell mechs. Or should I say eighth shell with battle replacements? What could they possibly discuss to affect us?" Optimus consoled as the shuttle descended into view, surrounded by the Aerialbots.

**AUTOBOT MEDICAL BAY**

**NEXT MORNING**

"And this is our chief medic Ratchet. You remember him," Optimus braced a hand against the sliding medical door, making sure it posed no threat to the ancient femme as she hobbled forward. Behind him, Ironhide smirked at Ultra Magnus as they waited for Optimus to move out of their way. The throw myself at my targets leader they normally served under examined every safety possibility as a waiting threat around the aged femme. Inside the room, Ratchet moved forward, leaving Chromia and Flareup standing by Elita's berth.

"You are beautiful as ever. Knee gears require alignment I see," Ratchet bowed in the old ways of their kind, his enhanced optics missing none of her stiffer movements.

"Can't wait to get your servos on me again can you?" She teased, offering out a hand in the same tradition. Once a command gesture of the higher classes' power, the meaning evolving between them to an acknowledgment of their lives before the war. When she had a family and he a young politician in a time barely remembered.

"My spark is dedicated to Moonracer but your fiery spark is tempting," his lip plates brushed across the back of her hand. Tradition required a handclasp but the medic cared for her as his own parental femme, adding a personal touch.

"Hmm, if I was a few ages younger and you available," she said.

"Alas, duty calls. I am available for a full physical. No reason for you to suffer any longer with those misalignments. Chromia and Flareup will be in attendance, as well as Elita shortly," he said, clearing his medical schedule to ensure the femmes privacy.

All optics turned that direction, Optimus armored hand cupping the side of Elita's faceplates as she reclined on the medical berth. A warming cover hid her upper chassis from their view, only her arm visible on the edge with the energon drip.

"Back online shortly. The couplers installed smoothly, the first one aligning to her spark signature now. Limited movements and no leaving this bay without my authorization for an orn," Ratchet ordered, making sure they all understood.

"I want to stay by her side. Magnus, you retain command, Ironhide and Jazz as backup," Optimus nodded towards the large red, blue and white armored figure now filling the main doorway.

"Dion? Keep processing you as an itty bitty mechling, not all big and commanding with a name like Ultra," the ancient femme smiled, her helm tilting way up to see.

"I was never small and stopped being Dion the day Orion became Optimus," the City Commander stated firmly.

"Hah! Little shell with grand escapades. I remember when you two met at the youth sector school. First day of the new session and both us parental femmes were in the attendant's office to pick you up halfway through it. Return trips had us femmes betting which of you two started it, Dion or Orion," she chuckled, her optics a little dimmer as memory cores accessed.

Both warrior mechs felt their faceplates heat in embarrassment. Ultra Magnus half turned away, folding both hands behind his armored back as the other Autobots shuttered their optics or made clicking sounds of amusement.

"Those two as little troublemakers? Hah! Had us convinced they sparked respectable," Flareup laughed. The orange and yellow armored femme normally avoided med bay but nothing would force her to leave now. Chromia snickered, sending an all call request to every femme on the base. This was too good for them to miss.

Optimus pinched his nose plate ridge with his armored fingers before facing his mom. "As Prime I need to command the respect of my troops. Certain misbehavior of a second shell youngling is not relevant."

"Speaking of which. Where are your younglings? I am not factory fresh myself anymore and my spark yearns for a sparkling to comfort. Or you too busy being Prime to enjoy this femme of yours? All those vorns I made sure femmes were nearby and you never grabbed one to your berth to provide me the next generation. Then you bring Ariel home and I sing to the first moon base. And still no sparklings after all this time tsk tsk. Elita's recovery will keep her flat on her back plates awhile, perfect opportunity. Ask Ratchet if you've forgotten what to do as a mech."

"MOM!" Optimus sputtered, stumbling over his own feet pads as the others laughed.

"Same problem as your parental mech. Too busy leading to handle matters of the spark properly. Unless you intend to adopt like we did. Happiest memory is the first time you recharged in my arms, your little tank full of sweetened energon. The only time I got rest myself," she remembered.

"I would love to hear what he was like before," Chromia encouraged.

"Shoot me now, please," Optimus muttered.

"Sorry, that's Megatron's job, not mine," Ironhide grunted, grinning evilly.

**AUTOBOT MEDICAL BAY**

**POST EXAM**

"He was such a mischievous little sparkling. Would disappear the moment you turned your back plates. I would spend half the time trying to find his little blue chassis then I turn the corner and these little optics and pointed antennas would duck out of optical range. Always gave himself away looking for me or one of the other searchers. Too scared to go far yet wanting to play a bit longer," she smiled.

The ancient femme sat on Ratchet's office chair, the chair rolled out for her in the center of the room. Her small grey frame barely filled it, closer to Bumblebee's size than the other femmes. Elita lay on the nearer medical berth, unable to detach from the medical monitors and energon drip. Femmes Chromia, Flareup, Arcee, Firestar, medic Rone, Silverblade, Gilese, Antares and Moonracer sat on the medical berths around the room listening intently. Outside in the hallway Prowl, Optimus and Jazz guarded the inner doors, Ironhide, Ratchet and Hound outside the building least all their femmes together pose too tempting a target. Inside med bay, the conversation continued.

"Good thing he has those antennas," Chromia chuckled, exchanging a look at Elita. The other femme had long ago confided they were a highly sensitive spot on Optimus.

"Blame the ancients for that. We attended a party at the Allspark Temple Proper to celebrate the founding of the new science division. Members of all clans could finally work together at one location with the approval of the Grand Council. Usual grand speeches, every politician taking credit as though it was their idea," the ancient femme waved her hand, as though dismissing the long ago conflicts.

"Translated boring mutual admiration society when do I escape out of here type event," Flareup joked.

"The price of Alpha Trion being an adviser and political schemer. You are required to attend all public events of great importance to monitor the opposition. He enjoyed the public attention; I found it annoying the same politician admiring my mechlings dismissed me as only a femme, not an equal to my famous mate. Alpha appreciated my advice, trusting my observations," the ancient femme stated.

"Any femme capable of raising two mechs is no processor slouch," Elita grumbled, untangling a scanner line to turn more on her side. The higher temperature of med bay compensated for the lack of armor but she moved slowly, careful to not jar the newly sealed connections.

"I agree. Optimus behaved at the parties, it was his brother that became a problem. The astro second I reach for an energon treat from the serving table that night they disappear from my side, wandering down the hallways. I find them staring at one of the historical murals of the original Primes, or at least Optimus is. Megs is engraving his name in the wall, the glyph barely started. Said his name would be there when he reached his fourth shell so why wait," she continued.

"That sounds like Megatron, power hungry and destructive," Gilese mumbled.

"Alpha Trion found it amusing. Mechs will be mechs he tried explaining to the curator. We paid for the restoration and grounded Megs an orn. Never learned," she frowned.

"And Optimus?"

"He is staring at one of the Primes images as though he knew him. "

"I remember that mural, before its destruction. Which Prime?" Elita asked.

"The engineer with the spindly arms. He designed the power convertors for sparkling shells, medical crypts to allow movement of badly damaged mechs and the Vector Sigma vault."

"That's where he got that design. The Prime's helm had the tall points on each side didn't it?" Elita remembered.

The aged femme chuckled. "Yes. After his next afternoon recharge, I caught the little mech trying to soft weld two energon cube tongs to his helm. Made quite a mess. The tongs were at odd angles because he couldn't see where to weld them then he forgot and sat the soft welder on the counter, leaving a rather large char mark," she explained as they giggled, picturing the scene.

The double doors opened, Optimus stepping through followed by Hound carrying trays of energon cubes. "Refreshments ladies?" His regal baritone faltered a little as eleven pair of femme optics narrowed in on him. Or rather his helm side points.

:: What are they staring at?:: Hound sent to him alone, transferring the tray full of energon cubes to Chromia.

:: Not sure. Must be a femme thing:: Optimus sent back, waiting by the open doors. They both bowed, keeping their backs to the doors out of courtesy as they stepped back into the hallway.

"He is cute with them," Firestar vented as the doors closed.

"Cute? Hah! Try recharging and he rolls over you. Or his exhaust puffs from bad fuel," Elita commented.

"He did that as a sparkling too. Alpha paid for his helm refit as a spark day present later that orn. He dropped the design in his adult shell as Orion then added them back as Optimus," his mom said.

"And all from attending a party," Antares chuckled.

"The one party disaster was really not his fault," she sipped at her energon cube.

"As in?" Elita asked.

"Please tell," Chromia added.

"I shouldn't relate this," she grinned, seeing the matching feral looks on the faceplates of the waiting femmes. "But..."

_To be continued..._


	14. Chapter 14 Missing roofs and Annabelle

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Family orientated this time before adventure, a plot twist and more parental fun. Optimus still has to explain his life to mom, deal with Ratchet and his sparkmate. Elita will be fine and Sarah too. The rest is a surprise or two.

Thanks to LunaeShark for the heather suggestion. Cybertronian time – breem is 8.3 minutes, joor is 6.5 hours, orn is 13 days and a vorn is 83 years. Think v for a very long time. Axiom Nexus is TF canon, a world where time travelers and races from all the galaxies could meet in the old comic book series.

TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS

**NEST BASE, DIEGO GARCIA ISLAND**

**AUTOBOT MEDICAL BAY**

"The one party disaster was really not his fault," Optimus' mom vented lightly, comfortable in the oversize chair as her systems finished adapting Ratchet's repair work.

"As in?" Elita asked, resting on her side on the medical berth. Her leg armor shone in the overhead lights, the draped cloth hiding her exposed upper protoform where the power cables and energon drip attached.

"Please tell," Chromia added. The blue armored femme knew she would never look at their Prime the same way but did not care. Better yet, she would compare notes with Ironhide later.

"I shouldn't relate this," she grinned, seeing the matching feral looks on the faceplates of the waiting femmes. Taking a sip of the energon to stall, Flareup, Arcee, Firestar, Silverblade, Rone, Gilese, Antares and Moonracer nodded or affirmed their desire to hear.

"It was their grand presentation ceremony. The day we formally announced them as ours, minus the adoption part, before the clan elders. Alpha Trion spent joors on the comm, ensuring all the important leaders and legislators would be there for the presentation. I spent it trying to confirm our travel plans and arrangements for the celebration. We each processed the other had changed their tanks and readied the mechs."

"Oh no!" the femme medic Rone gasped, her armored hand covering her lip plates. She knew first what that meant, having taught other femmes how to raise sparklings.

"Neither of us had. To keep him quiet during the long flight, we gave him two energon bottles while his older brother snacked on chip treats. The presentation goes perfectly and we are at the after party. Orion is unhappy, kicking his little stubby legs and Megs is sneaking him mini cubes of flavored energon. Too concentrated for his system, the excess fluids are pouring straight through his tiny system. Then our clan elder wants to hold him. Old chipped slagger. Argued over every little processing of the laws to irritate those he did not like. Alpha raved for breems after their worse council sessions," she said.

"He wanted to hold Optimus...err Orion?" Chromia smirked, downing her energon mini cube in one gulp.

"Worse, he bounces my little mech like he's shaking a lab experiment. Fourth bounce and Orion howls, waving his little hands. The elder holds him against his chest plates trying to muffle his cries. Only makes it worse as every bot turns to look. Then Orion's tank release gives way under the pressure; streaming waste fluids and unused energon all down the elder's front."

Laughing, they enjoyed the moment. "I'm mortified, poor Orion is crying but feels better and Alpha is recording every astro second to replay the next time quarreling. Mechs," she rolled her optics.

"Can't live with them, can't live without them," Firestar giggled. Skilled in hand to hand fighting, her heavier body armor curved in enough places to designate her as femme. The power units hidden beneath equal to a mech twice her size and used to flatten any mech teasing her about being smaller.

"Speak for yourself," Flareup said, her armor flexible in more places for her more gymnastic movements on the battlefield. Whether rolling, diving or flipping through the air her surprise movements protected from damage. And kept her opponents guessing.

"Seriously, other than interfacing what are they good for? I'm armed, I can fight. And have enough credits to buy anything I want. What do I need a mech for?" Antares asked. Her mom Gilese nearly dropped her energon cube.

"I felt that way once. Determined to live a carefree spark life. But I accepted my clan's proposal for a mech chosen to enhance our family line. Duty, honor and all that even though I felt like I had agreed to a prison sentence of unending servitude. I was wrong." The ancient femme waved her thin hand in the air as though chasing off a bug. "We never spark mated but I had a good life. Roof over my head, audios willing to listen to my wants and provided me with sons when we couldn't create our own. I could never had achieved that alone in our society. Now, you are free to choose our own existence. And if fate has other plans, you must be willing to roll with them. Whether to stay single or choose a spark mate," Optimus' mom's voice filled the sudden silence.

"When Alpha passed into the Matrix, why didn't you choose another then?" Elita asked, surprised she never realized the other femme remained single.

"BOE dear. Base of eligibles. As a Prime's paternal femme, my life is more public than with Alpha Trion and by the time I processed choosing another my choices were limited. I raised and tank trained two mechs, didn't want to train a youngling to my berth."

"Men are like parking spaces, the humans say. The best are taken and the nearest ones are handicap," Moonracer quoted as they all laughed except his mom.

"What is a parking space? And what are humans? I haven't seen one yet," she said, finishing her energon cube.

"You will shortly," Rone consulted the day's schedule. "Sarah Lennox has her first formal exam with Ratchet this evening, after dinner. She is carrying."

"How soon? Mech or femme? Once Optimus holds it, maybe he'll want one of his own." No femme said a word, all looking to the Rone.

"I'll leave that question for Ratchet. Now, did Optimus have any medical issues in his first or second shell?"

"Only if you count adventures of a mischievous youngling. Tried flying his air scooter between roof tops," she began.

"He missed?" Optics wide, Rone vented hard, imaging injuries.

"Oh he hit it. His calculations were perfect but what happened next he never processed out fully, how to stop. He clears two more roofs, each lower than the first, screaming all the way before the scooter clips a light attachment at the far end." One of her hands whipped up straight, palm out as the other hand twisted over and over in the air. "He kept going, landing in community recycling tub. The impact snaps the lid down. The cleaner crew heard him tapping, letting him out. The Elite Guard escorts him home, scratched and not a bit repentant. After the wash racks, I find him drawing plans to engineer ramps between roofs to increase access and build a city in the sky."

"What did you do?" Arcee asked. The youngest of the assembled femmes, she hung on practically every word, understanding more of the dignified commanding Optimus by his wild past.

"What every parental femme would. Gave him energon treats and enrolled him into every engineer and design course I could. He built those bridges as an adult and made me proud. His older brother's Megs attempts at science blew out the windows more than once. Together their adventures triggered every emergency crew in the area. Like the time..."

**MEDICAL BAY ANNEX**

**FRONT ENTRANCE**

"If he wants an indestructible plant, try heather. It's pretty and it's really, really tough," Master Sergeant Epps stated, thoroughly amused. The black officer stood outside the medical bay hangar, reading the various name tags of rose types. The idea a mech of Ratchet's size, grumpiness and combat experience planting roses instead of laser guns at the entrance made him smile. Prowl, Optimus and Jazz stood nearby in their bi pedal modes, optics and sensors scanning the area, the sky and for all the humans knew, into the ground to protect those inside the building.

"Heather? Isn't that the plant you drove the lawnmower over and it continues to live?" Major Lennox asked, seeing nothing wrong with an alien wanting to enjoy earth flowers. Growing up on the family farm, planting and harvesting whether for food or beauty were part of life.

"How was I to know it was there? I was distracted by Monique. Woman was modeling a new bathing suit in our bedroom, the windows were open!"

"And the rosebushes you ran over?" Will asked.

"She came out of the shower without a towel into our master bedroom. Can't expect me to stay focused with my wife doing that. Her fault she planted the rose bushes where I could get them. Should have been climbing vines on the wall," the officer muttered, kicking a stray pebble back into the garden border. Snickering, Will made a mental note that when he took his paternity leave to be with Sarah, giving Epps any drivable vehicle would be a mistake.

"I need to confer with Optimus, be right back," Will said, knowing their sensitive alien hearing would catch every word and the footsteps of his approach.

"How is the young carrier?" Optimus rumbled, turning to face him.

"Sarah is resting in my quarters, per doctor's orders. Once the nausea abates, she is to eat anything and everything she wants. Speaking of which, I hope you guys don't mind late night snack runs for cravings in a few months. After shipping to Qatar I spent the first weeks waking up at any flash of light, reaching automatically for my boots and truck keys out of habit."

"Annabelle hanging in?" Jazz asked, his black and white armor coloring mirroring Prowl's though not by design.

"Can't wait to see her new brother or sister. No sibling jealousy problems thankfully and instant Autobot family," he smiled.

"Where is Annabelle?" Prowl asked, not detecting her anywhere nearby.

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are watching her. I'll go get her soon as I'm done talking with Ironhide," Will answered, missing the mechs looking at each other, optics going wide.

::The twins left four breems ago with the search teams. Three new comet sightings from NASA. Attempting contact now:: Prowl's optics faded as he multi tasked, turning his concentration inward to link with the base communications array.

::Should we get Ironhide?:: Optimus asked, keeping their conversation internal as Will walked away.

::To track her via the Autobot necklace he gave her?:: Prowl guessed, intent on linking long distance.

::To keep Ironhide from hijacking a plane when he finds out she is missing:: Optimus responded, confirming the mech's energy signature by the inner doors.

::More call Ratchet for Ironhide's spark attack:: Jazz added, his blue battle visor flaring side to side bright blue.

:: Sideswipe reports Annabelle is with them and Mirage:: Prowl relaxed, his black and white wing doors dropping down to a more normal position. The twins were a risk; Mirage would guard the little girl, enveloping her in his invisible cloak to keep them both safe.

Inside the medical building, Will nodded to the three mechs at the other end of the hallway, noting their weapons pointing away but ready. Any force capable of getting by Optimus and Prowl outside would require their weaponry first and foremost. Detecting only a lone human, Ratchet and Hound continued their conversation as Ironhide motioned for him to stop mid way in the hallway. "Is Sarah safe?"

"Recharging in my quarters, with all alarms set. Wheelie is outside the door to yell for you as a backup. Never thought I would find a former Decepticon outside my bedroom reassuring," Will said, running a hand through his graying hair. The military brush cut hid most of the color change except on the sides.

"I should guard her. Why does Sarah not fully trust me?" Ironhide asked, his faceplates drawn down. Even his black chassis armor seemed to drop a little.

"Whatever gave you that idea big guy?" Will blinked. He knew the girls trusted him, once they got over the shock of his cannons and weapon happy attitude.

"When we were driving on the mainland, a rock hit my windshield, thrown from the truck ahead. Sarah flinched. My armor takes hits no earth vehicle could withstand, even the simulated glass," Ironhide rumbled.

Will sighed, his body language a mixture of emotions. "You need to understand a secret about Sarah. Her father was a police officer and spent most of his life on the road. He died when she was a teenager in a car accident."

"Why would a rock remind her of that?"

"He was chasing a stolen tractor trailer with construction equipment. During the chase, the backhoe shifted on the trailer, breaking the chains. A large metal piece bounced off and through the windshield, striking and killing him instantly. The other officers assisting needed counseling after trying to rescue him. They didn't know he was missing from the shoulders up. Sarah had nightmares for awhile about broken glass, bouncing debris and him being ripped from her. The flinching is a normal human reaction and a sad reminder out of her past. Were you driving or her?"

"Me, she was sitting in the passenger seat," he answered.

"Then she trusts you. Sarah has taken our car on events all over the states rather than carpool or trust another driver. For her to sit in the passenger seat is trust," Will said when his cell phone beeped. Annabelle's last school photo flashed across its crystal display.

"Hi sweetie. Where are you? The obstacle course? I can barely hear you," he pressed the phone tightly on his ear.

"Hi daddy. We're flying!" her voice sounded from the phone.

"Then slow down! Even an Autobot can crash! Are you belted in?"

"Yup. Got my helmet, my first aid kit, my parachute and my mini blaster," she cheerfully answered as the whistling noise in the background increased. The second phone line beeped, displaying General Morshower's image and office number. "Sweetie, I have to go. I will call you back. Stay safe okay?"

"I promise! Love you! " She half yelled before the connection went dead.

"Slagging twins. Shouldn't encourage her play time that way. Parachute and blasters are serious, not fantasy," Ironhide grumbled as his cannons spun once.

Will grinned, remembering how many times Ironhide had snuck her onto the target range or obstacle course. "Yes General, I got the message from NASA. SIC Prowl handled it and yes sir, thank you. I am excited about being a father again. Six? Wow. Command and a large family. I can barely handle one sir."

**RURAL INTERSTATE**

**NEAR GEORGE'S ADVANCED TOWING**

:: We got plenty of time, sunshine and no Decepticons. Sit on the grass and catch us a big fish. Everything we need:: Hubcap sent, rolling down the road in his tow truck alt mode. Both his grand bots, Mudflap and Skids followed closely in their alt modes, holographic drivers in place.

:: Everything but a pretty femme:: Mudflap sent, his green coloring standing out between the orange tow truck and his orange armor colored twin.

:: Be respectful! Femmes are rare treasures not an item to match to:: Hubcap grumbled, changing lanes to let a speeding SUV go by. The vehicle crossed over the center yellow lines to bypass the twins as they called out Cybertronian insults. The human driver never heard, the music cranked up full volume inside. Hubcap noted the license plate, figuring to tow the wreck back on their return trip.

::Did she leave you? That why you never talk about her?:: Mudflap asked, exiting off the interstate but forgetting to use his turn signal.

::She left but not because she wanted too. Spark failure. Had a single flaw the medics could not fix. They tried but in the end, she suffered. I had to choose between keeping her with me inside a containment field without her shell or living in my memory core:: Hubcap answered, slowing to turn right onto the side road leading to the campground.

:: What did you choose?:: Mudflap asked, sending a feeling of encouragement and support to wrap with his twin's emotions towards their granddad.

::I didn't. Spark failed that same orn. Never had to make the choice. Threw myself into my work as the war swept across the planet. Retrieve parts to save others so their family wouldn't know loss. Made a difference then became a routine. The parts accumulated faster than the medics could install and I left for Axiom Nexus:: Hubcap

::Wild party place?:: Skids asked, bumping over the gravel road until he noticed the side to side pattern Hubcap took. Not weaving but avoiding the worse of the mud patches.

:: Sometimes. I spent time there among other races, seeing how many are like ours, torn apart by war and power grabbing. Not one race knew peace. Then this Cybertronian search team arrives, discussing the Allspark. I grab me a serving tray and get their lip plates loose with high grade. 'On the house' I tell them. Their tales led me to this planet. Met a seeker, helped him search the desert but his complaining irritated my gears worse than the sand and I left. Realized I was old and alone. Then met my human George and started a new life. Recharge when I want, go out and retrieve wrecked cars, give George a purpose to keep pulling out of recharge. Now I got you boys when he passes on:: Hubcap explained.

::We got femmes at base. How about picking one of them to keep you company?:: Mudflap suggested.

::Them younglings? Hah! Find two femmes for you boys but not me. Like aged energon, my femmes need to be feisty with good taste and mature. Don't need no frisky warrior type at my age:: Hubcap stated, slowing to transform. Slowly, with creaking gears, he formed into his bi pedal mode before sub-spacing out fishing poles for the twins.

"Get close to the stream and throw them in the water and the fish will bite," Hubcap instructed while handing out the poles. His optics shuttered rapidly when the twins shrugged, throwing their poles into the creek.

"Like that grandpa? We don't need to be close to hit the stream."

"Fish bites don't hurt? Our medic is grumpy for repairs," Skids asked, ducking under his twin's swinging arm.

"We warriors! Devastator bite ain't taking us down. Fish fear us," he growled back, tackling his twin then they were rolling, fighting and punching.

_To be continued..._


	15. Chapter 15 Look what I found

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Credit to fellow writer botosphere for working on the idea of Transformer intimacy. The Quintessons, A1, A2, and A3 Alpha Trion are Transformer canon. Part of the original G1 animated series. Yes, there will be intimate moments between Elita and Optimus once she leaves med bay. Onward to trying to understand what makes the mind and spark work.

Cybertronian time – breem is 8.3 minutes, joor is 6.5 hours, orn is 13 days and a vorn is 83 years. Think v for a very long time.

TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS

Inside their base of operations, the Decepticons regarded the monitor screens showing the outside weather with distaste clear on their faceplates. Cybertron, as a metal world, had relatively no weather and nothing to match the thunderstorms of earth. While posing no physical danger, the lighting, erratic winds and pelting hail danced across their sensor nets like weapons fire from all directions.

"I don't care what you say; Megatron can't be serious about us flying patrols in this weather!" Thrust protested, his purple armored chassis hunching over his monitor. Dirge spun around, his chair swiveled with a protesting of metal, the sound lost beneath the Thrust's snort of contempt. He pointed at the external camera view showing trees whipping in the wind, one toppling over dirt and all leaving a small crater where its roots had been as they watched.

"We're Decepticons not humans. Atmospheric nuisances are beneath us. I'd go myself but I am needed to assist Megatron in running our operations here," Starscream stated, flopping on the first open chair, his silver wings sticking out over either side of the seat.

"Rain is above us and I just waxed my wings," Dirge whined.

"You can withstand a blast from Prime's rifle and worry about rain?" Starscream glared over his shoulder plates, mocking his fellow seeker.

"On Cybertron I had a real alt form. Sleek and shaped. These flat wings are made for catching rain," the seeker complained, shifting the wings on his back once for emphasis.

"Flat like your personality," Thrust teased. All optics snapped to the command door as it slid open, their frame automatically straightening in case it was Megatron. They relaxed fractionally as Soundwave entered the room. The mech's square blue form moved fluidly despite the cracked chest armor and missing armor pieces.

"Speaking of flat," Dirge muttered softly.

"Let me guess, your minions are too busy to do recon?" Starscream's vocal dripping with a false sweetness. His processings tightly shielded against the communications officer, never trusting his secretive reports to Megatron.

"Negative. Distance too great," he intoned, ignoring the seekers. His systems half- repaired and functional but his psyche needed time to recover from the defeat handed out by Hubcap. Sitting down slowly, he hid the fact his left arm cables refused to move, keying the monitor to interlink with the orbiting earth satellites. He would find Hubcap and crush him, he only had to find the Autobot's weakness. And that meant monitoring his every movement.

"Translated they bring back mud and track it everywhere, including their recharge slots in you. Pick somewhere sunny and you wouldn't have that problem," Dirge stated.

"Then you won't mind recon at Area 51," Megatron's deeper vocal catching them by surprise. The tall silver warrior stood in the doorway as they hid their astro second of panic. His arm cannon remained down as he strode into the room, relieving their fear of offlining quickly.

"Isn't that area heavily monitored?"

"It's in the desert. At least your wings will be dry," Starscream said, rising to leave and walk past all of them.

"Starscream, Soundwave remain. We have much to discuss," Megatron ordered sitting on the central chair like a throne. "Like where my communications officer went and why my second in command, who I left in charge, failed to report his whereabouts or Autobot activity."

"In charge but not a spark sitter," Starscream snapped, spinning around in his chair to face the monitor. The two seekers caught the glare on Megatron's face as Starscream turned his back plates to their leader.

"Out of here, flying patrol as ordered," Thrust rambled, practically running into the hallway, Dirge following closely behind. What was about to hit the fan in the control room exceeded any amount of rain hitting their armor in flight.

**NEST BASE, DIEGO GARCIA ISLAND**

**AUTOBOT MEDICAL BAY**

"I've enjoying hearing about Optimus as a youngling but all of us in the same room is a bit much. Remind me to thank Ultra Magnus for arranging this drill," Elita chuckled as the double doors shut behind the last femme. Being repaired, her communications array offline she had no idea of the urgency in the call that had Chromia, Flareup, Arcee, Firestar, Silverblade, Rone, Gilese, Antares and Moonracer leaving. Their explanation of an unplanned drill satisfying Elita's half-working processors.

The remaining femme sitting in the chair facing her smiled, having no idea who 'Annabelle' or the 'slagging pit spawned twins' were but confident in the ability of the mechs to handle the situation. She made a mental note to talk to Ironhide about his improper language for a mech his age and officer rank. Now that both femmes were alone in med bay, there were more important and personal matters to discuss. "Elita dear, when was the last time you and Optimus were intimate?"

The rose-colored femme blinked, expecting the question and silently agreeing with the idea of a sparkling. Except facing her was the femme that had raised her legendary spark mate. The partner to Alpha Trion and a living legend herself. "We have spark merged without..."

"Not that," the ancient femme waved her protoform hand.

"Interfacing when we are alone and..." Elita tried again, feeling her cheek plates heat with embarrassment.

"Intimate not passionate. When was the last time you did that?" Small blue optics regarded her steadily.

"What exactly are you asking?"

"Intimate as in the little touches, oiling rough edges on your protoforms, even linking your systems without spark merging. When you first met my Orion, did you immediately hop to the berth?"

"NO! I never, we didn't and..." Elita began, flustered.

"Ease down before your energon drip pulls out," the ancient femme pointed at the tightening medical line. She moved the chair closer, tempted to stand then passed on the idea. Ratchet repairs to her knee joints smoothed the alignment out, without replacing the aged gears. "Basics. You find a mech you like, moving closer to be noticed. Stand within physical range then small touches on the shoulder or hands that accidentally reach for the same item. Then cuddling and leaning on one another when tired or upset. That touch becomes handholding leading to more intensity with data linking to share ideas or work together. Intimacy as two draw nearer to sharing one existence. Spark merging is the final step to become one in energy but that doesn't solve the rest of life's problems. It doesn't pick up dropped parts on the floor, refill the last empty energon cube or understand when you need time alone."

"Oh. Optimus and I have been together a long time as spark mates. Separated, he on earth and I on Cybertron made me realize I needed his touch. Needed to feel him in my arms or see his optics and bright red armor. We do share intimate times. In the wash racks a few days ago, he helped me get clean. No passion, no lust just washing my armor," Elita explained.

"Is that all?" his mom asked, letting Elita talk of what she already knew. "After vorns together I would expect you to have a few more intimate 'rituals' to keep that affection strong. More than calling you sweet spark or light of my spark and handing you a spare ammo clip."

"He doesn't grab my aft like Ironhide does Chromia or drip sweetened energon into my mouth like Moonracer to Ratchet but we share private times," Elita conceded, trying to remember what else they had done recently.

"Intimacy is what will keep you together. I tried seducing Alpha a number of times without result, doing research on the subject of Transformer relations. Took a medic for me to realize the truth," she vented, a bitter look passing over her aged faceplates before disappearing.

"He never loved you?" Elita guessed.

"He did, in his own way. The truth was worse. He was one of the original thirteen Transformers, built by the Quintessons and infused with a spark from Vector Sigma to be a slave. Later generations received upgrades as our race progressed but we each retain our base spark programming. Ours coming into existence without control or guidance. He never had that option," she said.

"You're not talking about his lack of a transform or installed weaponry. What was he missing?" Elita asked, the medical protocols keeping her higher level processing slowed. She shifted under the sheet before relaxing on her medical berth.

"Data linking started as the slaves' way to communicate without their masters knowing. Alpha alone refused the link while planning the rebellion. He feared capture and if they could not tap his knowledge, their plans remained hidden. If the worse happened, he could self terminate. Even when data linking evolved into trust in letting another bot access your systems to an expression of intimacy between couples he refused the link ports."

"With the fear gone, what kept him from the upgrade?"

"The A1 unit served the Quintessons as domestic duties and labor with A2 designed for military use. However, A3, Alpha Trion became their voice. The Quintessons relied on him to carry out their will alone over as more units manufactured. He had full access to the Quintesson archives and their technology. Combine knowledge with the ability to act and react without undue emotion and?"

"The basis of a leader. The Quintessons created their enemy," Elita realized.

"His purpose of leadership enabled Cybertron to become its own world with wisdom and beauty. Nevertheless, his programming kept him from sharing at any level. We never interfaced because he lacked the physical parts. We never spark merged because his spark casing prevented tampering, shattering upon any attempt to breach it. He was alone in his own shell by design and never changed."

"Self-sacrifice for the greater good really is a leader's spark programming, isn't it? But how terribly lonely for you," Elita said.

"Worse is to love a Prime. I know the sacrifices required when you want to feel his arms around you instead he is directing troops. I remember the arguments early in your relationship. Him wanting you safe and you wanting to be on the front lines fighting."

"I feared being treated as an item not a warrior," Elita admitted.

"Even warriors breed. They make the best parents after all. Any femme guarding a youngling is threatening, an armed slagged off femme protecting her sparklings makes the galaxy fear," she smiled.

"Is that a hint?"

"More a request. If you don't produce one I may find myself a mech and have one of my own," she teased before rolling her optics at the crashing sounds behind her. Optimus grabbed for the tool cart he stumbled into, the force keeping it upright even as the tools jerked into the air, clanging down loudly on the smooth floor.

"You knew he was there didn't you?" Elita whispered before they both turned to see an embarrassed Optimus smiling sheepishly. His large red and blue frame bobbing as he picked up the tools, returning them to the tray. The double med bay doors sliding shut as silently as they had opened a moment before.

"A skill perfected before his second shell. However, he always had a knack for knocking things over. I lost several table sculptures that way. Best was the time when he and his brother..." his mom began.

**AREA 51, NEVADA , USA  
AUTOBOT SEARCH TEAM**

"Copy that, no sign of the Decepticon activity. Stay alert base, I say again, stay alert," the soldier repeated, the sound loud and clear in Annabelle's ear bud. A present from Sideswipe, she had dutifully fitted the headset under her sun hat, promising for the tenth time to stay clear of any battles.

"Who wants all that noise? Daddy says battles are messy and loud," she reflected, aiming her camera phone at the larger cactus, taking a picture of the empty bird nest built into the side stalk. The Nevada desert held faint stirrings of life, none seen quickly enough for the little girl to catch a picture of. The morning sun beat down, the rising temperature getting warmer without being hot. Her pink sun hat covered her blonde hair, her blue eyes peering under the rim as she walked across the sand, her boots leaving a trail of tiny prints. The blaster in her upper leg holster shifting against her jeans but not rubbing in irritation as much as her backpack. She hitched it higher again, shaking to make it lie flatter on her back.

Distantly the wire fencing around the area 51 base reflected sunlight without providing details of the activity inside. The overhead power lines hummed as they laced tower to tower overhead before angling down to the power station further ahead. The wind swirled and she peered at it, watching a tiny dust tornado pass before blinking. Concentrating, she listened for any Transformer nearby then shrugged. "Mirage? Are you there?" Faint cricket chirping and a far away scream of a desert hawk answered. No silver blue mech appeared or mysterious footprints in the sand without an owner. A small butterfly took wing off the far cactus, slowly rising in the air. The phone angled to take the picture when a hard gust of wind threw sand everywhere. Coughing gasping, ducking her head in her shirt she knelt as powerful thrusters roared in then silenced.

"Pit slag it! Now the sand will cover the rust," warned her she was not alone. Shaking her head to dislodge the sand, she peered up and out at two seekers, their colors unfamiliar but the Decepticon symbol easily recognizable.

"I should be that lucky. Look at my tail wing! Lightning bubbled the paint," made her smile. Somehow, the bickering mechs reminded her of the twins she knew were nearby. Standing slowly, she ducked to cover behind the closest cactus, careful not to touch the prickly spines. A single press of her thumb activated the Autobot pendant on her neck, the high frequency call for help going out.

"This is a power station? Looks more like a remote holder," the first mech grumbled, pointing at the low tan building.

"Station as in relay building, not a television channel station with remote," the other corrected.

"Whatever. Let's blast it then hit the base. I want to return to see what's left of Screamer."

"You mean if there is any," he laughed, an evil and nasty edge to it.

The little girl frowned, attacking the military base meant people getting hurt, maybe her Autobot friends. Her eyes narrowed, fists curling as she decided to stop them. Hopping out from behind the cactus, Annabelle braced, mini blaster in her hands. "Don't move!" she ordered in perfect Cybertronian.

:: Don't fire. She's alone:: Dirge sent, peering down at her.

:: You're right. Why waste an ammo shell when I can squish her:: Thrust sneered, raising a footpad.

::No, she is a youngling:: Dirge spun in front of him, physically blocking him.

:: Are you glitched?:: Thrust challenged, peeking around the blue wings to see her still aiming their direction.

:: She's that cannon happy Autobot's youngling. Ironhide. You want his cannons up your thrusters? Or his crazy femme Chromia?:: Dirge explained.

::Good point. How about we ignore her? Blast the station then the base:: Thrust argued.

"Hey! Don't move!" she ordered as they both turned towards the tan building.

"Or what?" Dirge spoke, kneeling down but still towering over her. His wings tilted, shielding her from the sun as he found her defiance interesting if unexpected. The few humans he had encountered ran screaming or screamed period. None this small had ever challenged him.

"Or I have to hurt you and I don't want to do that. Be nice and say you surrender, now!" she stamped one boot in the dirt, scaring a lizard from its hiding spot and streaking for its burrow.

"Surrender to you?" Laughing, Thrust swiveled his helm to see the other seeker looking serious.

:: Actually, that is not a bad processing:: Dirge sent on a frequency to him alone.

:: To a human? Are you cracked?:: Thrust asked.

:: No, my lower wing strut is. Autobots are saps. They fix anybot, even prisoners. Hook cannot or will not fix me and I am tired of neuron aches every time I fly patrol. And their energon is better than the sludge we get. And no bot will believe she did it anyway even if it gets back to base:: Dirge sat on the ground, his extended wing tips dragging in the sand.

::Never processed that:: Thrust answered, his red optics narrowing as calculations ran. Megatron took orns to cool his temper. Any problems with their mission and the Autobot brig would seem like paradise compared to what they could face.

Ten minutes later, the sand swirled as a tall silver blue mech appeared literally out of the air, the Autobot symbol affixed on his chest plate. Mirage stumbled to a halt, shoulder rocket ready as his armored fingers tightened around the trigger of his ion pistol. Two seekers were a challenge and the sand betrayed his invisible cloaked presence in ways the metal on Cybertron would never have. Nevertheless, the sight of the little girl standing between the two Decepticons gave him courage. "Annabelle, come here."

"It's okay, they surrendered," she chirped, pointing at them sitting quietly, hands on their helms on either side of her.

"They surrendered?" He echoed dumbly, scanning discreetly to confirm they were real, not holograms and no weapons or targeting locks aiming at him or Annabelle.

"Under the laws of Primus you have to be take care of us," Dirge stated. His short stubby arms barely reached his helm and gave him a comical appearance with his wide wings and wider chassis.

"Since when do you care about laws? Primus or otherwise?" Mirage challenged, almost in reach of grabbing Annabelle. The tower mech knew of fake surrenders earlier in the war and took no chances. The sounds of approaching heavy pounding began, the red and yellow colors bobbing as the owners ran full tilt towards them. Backup was coming and fast.

"Cause they have to obey them. Daddy says prisoners are to be treated as you would want to be treated if captured. Food, medicine and no torture. Cause we're good guys and don't do that," Annabelle answered, as though that explained everything.

"Major Lennox told you that?"

"And Ironhide says Primus makes you ask them if they want to give up but too many offline before they can answer. Like the Geneva convention rules only different," the little girl nodded, two seeker helms bobbing back and forth copying her motion.

::Status:: Sideswipe sent, the twins separating and approaching from opposite sides.

:: Confused and unsure:: Mirage replied, sending a quick data burst of the situation.

:: If they vent the wrong way, their wings are mine:: Sideswipe gestured with his dual swords as he ran in.

:: That is not my fear:: Mirage rubbed the back of his helm with an armored helm before sagging at the shoulder plates.

:: What is?:: Sunstreaker targeted both seekers, a firearm in each hand. His aim could take their sparks without endangering the human girl.

:: Explaining to the others it was Annabelle who captured them. Alone while we searched closer to the human base:: Mirage pointed at her.

:: She disobeyed orders. We told her to stay clear:: Sideswipe waved his sword, turning the motion into a stabbing gesture as Thrust snickered, guessing what they were discussing on private comms.

:: As a civilian, she doesn't have to. Moreover as Prime, even a human Prime, she technically outranks all of us in her decisions:: Mirage countered, venting deeply as the little girl finally moved to stand by his footpad.

::Oh:: They both answered at the same time.

::Then let her explain:: Sunstreaker suggested.

Two minutes later phone in hand, the Autobot enhanced device connected her to Major Will Lennox, NEST command half a world away with a clear strong signal. "Hi daddy! Guess what happened? Nope, I am okay. I triggered it because I needed help. With what? Here, see what I found?" clicking across the keys, the little girl sent an e-mail picture of the captured seekers with her posing between them. Mirage had held the camera phone, not wanting to get any closer to either seeker, even with the twins on a hair trigger to blast them into parts. Arguing with Annabelle that their optics took better images was a discussion he did not feel like starting. The phone made a dinging noise, the photo received.

"ARRRRGGGHHHH! BOOM!" Resonated out the phone's speaker with the sounds of something very heavy hitting hard.

"Did Ironhide blast the wall again?" Annabelle laughed, recognizing the sounds of war cannons.

"No, that was part of the roof as he went over backwards in shock," Will sighed, his complex emotions only heard not seen.

"He's funny. I miss him. Can I come home now? I'm tired and want a bedtime story," Annabelle said.

_To be continued..._


	16. Chapter 16 Home safe

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Yes, I am alive. A new job, moving to a different city and family occupied my focus for several months. I am still writing in bits and pieces but lack the time to put it all together into a chapter. More on Sarah's pregnancy, the human George and Soundwave in the next chapter.

Review: Hubcap took Skids and Mudflap back to his earth home to learn fishing. The human George found Ravage, post battle with Optimus, and cemented him in place as the new tow garage mailbox. Optimus mom is visiting Elita in med bay while Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Mirage investigate a possible Decepticon sighting with Annabelle tagging along. They encounter two Decepticon seekers who surrender to the little girl.

TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS

**NEST BASE, DIEGO GARCIA ISLAND**

**PRIME'S WORK OFFICE**

"Don't get used to that desk old friend," Prime's regal baritone voice had Ultra Magnus instant attention. The mech paused in the office doorway, regarding his counterpart and friend sitting in his chair behind his desk. Alike in coloring, their attitudes towards command differed. Optimus sometimes wondered how the war would have gone if Alpha Trion had selected Dion to become Prime instead of himself then passed. Elita would be a Prime's mate no matter who carried the Matrix of Leadership and she was worth every sacrifice and battle scar he had earned. He did notice his nameplate, a gift from the humans, lying face down on the desktop edge.

The larger blue and white armored bot straightened, his metal hands folding precisely together over the stack of datapads and waiting human reports. His optics flashed for a second to the nameplate as if daring the other mech to say something. Leaning back in the chair, Magnus massive frame filled the space between the desk and the wall, his square shoulder armor actually extending out past the desk sides. "Is that a request? You will have to fill out the proper paperwork in triplicate, clear it with both NEST and Autobot officers using the proper channels but I will gladly transfer command, and this mess back. "

"Not at all," Optimus grinned, rubbing at the back of his helm as he moved to stand before the desk. "I am merely a messenger with a timely message."

"Don't start a mission without proper fueling and avoid calling for assistance until nearly too late?"Magnus couldn't resist teasing him. Seated, he still felt as a solider before a Prime and not the mech currently in command.

"It wasn't a mission but a road trip as the humans call it and no, that isn't the message."

"Being treated like a sparkling means wash time and energon handed to you?"

"Only by my femme. You forgot to mention movement trackers, restraining fields on your recharge berth edge and spark sitters. You are getting closer to the message though."

"If you are going to fall on your faceplates make sure there is a Decepticon drone under you first?"

"Falling makes it easier to clean out of my gears than the time you stepped on one on Denarius Two. Ratchet raved for breems and Commander Kup still shares the images of you fighting with a drone shaped boot. And that is not the message, though falling may be involved," Optimus intoned solemnly while grinning. He could give teasing as good as he got it.

"Then what?" Ultra Magnus finally gave in, realizing he wouldn't get an answer without asking.

"The plane carrying Annabelle and the others is about to land on the tarmac," he smirked.

"Pit!" The mech's optics went wide. A digital check of the human's radar systems showed the plane was on final approach and would land in under a breem. "Why didn't some bot comm me sooner?"

"They did. You had all the frequencies blocked with a message to not disturb unless there was a galaxy class emergency," Optimus stated turning to follow the other mech out the door and down the hallway. He paused long enough to slide his chair back under the desk and upright his name plaque.

"This is an emergency. Ironhide's had over five hours to plan what he's going to do when they unload!" Magnus vocal floated back through the hallway, barely heard over his pounding steps.

"No running Magnus! An emergency is you crashing into a human vehicle with your speed and mass. I already handled it," Optimus did jog down the hallway but no faster. Going out the door and into the topical daylight, he saw the other mech already a third of the way across the open tarmac.

"You did?"

"Ironhide is waiting by medical and I asked the femmes to meet the plane," he gestured towards the direction of the airfield.

"Femmes? Why them?" His hesitation gave Optimus the few seconds to stride over and catch up. Magnus larger height also gave him longer leg struts and a faster pace.

"They are the last bots the Decepticons will expect to meet offloading. Prowl, I or you but not them armed and ready to rip metal strips off. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe did fill the wash racks sprayers with the color changing paint. The femmes have not forgotten the results. Moreover, they are protective of Annabelle like their own sparkling. Best scenario, the seekers walk out and to the brig. Worse case the dispute between the twins and the femmes get settled and we turn the seeker parts over to the human military for study."

"How is arranging all that not taking back command?"

"Going behind your backplates to make your life easier and that's the thanks I get?"

"You better get your aft back to med bay," Ratchet vocal interrupted whatever Magnus had been going to answer. Both mechs turned to face the white and green armored medic standing behind them.

"Elita?" Optimus entire being focused on the answer. He knew the medic would never leave her if there were any danger but his attempt to monitor her data had Ratchet locking him out of the medical systems.

"About to bring the remaining power couplers online. And I need you there and your mom out of my med bay," the medic said.

"Scary isn't she?" Magnus asked, optics scanning across the runway to ensure no debris and the area ready for the plane entering view range. His alien hearing could detect the faintest trace of the earth plane's engines over the ocean.

"More tempting. If I were not sparked to Moonracer, her blazing spark would be worth considering. Any femme able to fluster Elita and raise lug head here," he pointed at Optimus. "Is no processor slouch. I like strength." His optics met theirs squarely.

"But...but...but she's..." Ultra Magnus sputtered, the plane's wheels touching down as it landed momentarily forgotten.

"With the right parts and enough energon she is fully functional as healthy as you, even at her age. Ironhide is older than her and he still fights in battles," Ratchet stated, teasing.

"TMI. Too much information Ratchet! She is my mom," Optimus reminded. The plane taxied forward, the propellers slowing as it rolled to a stop.

"Adopted mom. Or you would have her passion and a room full of little Primes running around. And I want you in med bay now," Ratchet said, gesturing towards the med bay building.

"Humans are the only little feet I can deal with," Magnus grumbled, resolutely straightening to full height before striding out to meet the plane.

Prowl waited in his bi pedal mode, both black and white doors nearly upright with tension. The fingers curled around the trigger of his stun baton never twitching, his normal blaster firmly strapped to down in his hip holster. Unarmed, coded lock down prisoners needed to see him ready and waiting. Personally, he felt the femmes' carrying and arming their weapons were a bit much but he would never tell them that. His job as second in command was to support the leader and ensure smooth functioning of the base. If they wanted to look like a walking weapons exhibit fine by him. However, whether it was for the twins or the prisoners he was not sure.

"Status?" Magnus greeted him.

"Arcee will retrieve Annabelle then we unload the Decepticons. Mirage and the twins calmly reacted, Ironhide did not," he explained as Arcee rolled up to the edge of the ramp, her armored arms outstretched to catch the leaping little girl. Scolding her over safety, he barely caught Annabelle's explanation to Arcee that being a Prime meant she stayed safe whether fighting, jumping or flying. Prowl's wing doors dropped lower, calculations running on how much trouble that belief would create.

"Look at that rack," Dirge made a whistling sound upon seeing the first femme. His flight wings spread further out, the lighting slag mark on the lower edge barely noticeable. Sand dotted the wide feet pads with a piece of sagebrush sticking out of his ankle gear.

"Double barrel ion blaster with laser sights. Now that is a weapon," Thrust agreed, both their optics moving from weapon to weapon trained on them.

"Curved energon sword with a tri tip extension in her hands."

"Beats anything at our base. Wheeljack designed most of them. Sleek triggers, precise targeting sights, the best of power and beauty. Makes Starscream's null rays look like sparkling toys," Thrust commented, careful to keep his movements slow and clear.

"Do you agree to follow the Rules of Surrender and Primus laws?" Prowl's vocal betrayed none of his suspicions even as he longed to ask when they might attempt their first break out or worse, the real reason they were there. He would never believe two battle-hardened warriors surrendering to a human girl. Especially without her using her Prime gift of metal manipulation to subdue them.

"We know the drill. But we ain't swearing loyalty. Energon and repairs and we promise to behave like good prisoners, for now," Thrust answered.

"You'll swear to me. I'm in command here," Ultra Magnus stated, stepping closer to make them look up at his greater height.

"Ya off Prime? Took his place and his femme?" The seekers exchanged a startled glance.

"None of your concern. Keeping your sparks intact is. One micrometer of trouble and I'll return your parts to Megatron in a donkey bag," the commander threatened.

:: That's doggie bag not donkey:: Moonracer sent to him alone.

:: Donkey, doggie whatever. I was referring to Donkey, the talking animal in the Shrek movies the soldiers enjoy. Too many words and I will send them packing to a land far, far away::Magnus sent.

:: I never pictured Megatron as Lord Farquaad's but it works:: Arcee remarked, storing the image to share with Bumblebee later.

:: Didn't know you even watched cartoons. I prefer Roadrunner and coyote myself:: Firestar added, moving into line.

:: Watch the Cons, playtime later:: Flareup reminded, notching her blaster to full strength.

"Giles, Antares and Rone with me. Rest of you, escort the prisoners to the brig," Ultra Magnus commanded. His hearing caught the booming vocal of Ironhide in the distance, making him grin. If anybot could handle a human Prime, it would be him.

**MAIN AUTOBOT HANGER**

"What were you processing youngling?" Ironhide shouted. His massive frame nearly vibrating as he knelt before Annabelle.

"I'm okay and they didn't attack the base," she said as if that explained everything.

"They're Decepticons! They could have blasted you," Chromia chimed in. Her normally deep blue optics had the same traces of red in them as her mates. Centuries of battling had taught them the cruelties the enemy was capable of by design or accident.

"Uh huh. I'm a Prime. I told them to surrender and they had to," Annabelle tried explaining.

"Prime makes you more of a target," Ironhide challenged, his memory core replaying Optimus dropping on the tarmac, his lifeless shell bouncing.

"I didn't hurt them and we all came back okay," she pouted, moving closer. Both hands reached up in the universal I want to be picked up and hugged gesture. She smiled when large black armored fingers cradled around her, shifting her to his palm and up into the air. Resting against his chest plate armor, she sighed. "They said they didn't hurt me because it would make you mad. You kept me safe. They were scared of you."

**MAIN AUTOBOT HANGER**

**ONE WEEK LATER**

"That didn't last long," Ratchet grumbled to Chromia, watching their weapons specialist and the little girl blowing bubbles. Or rather, Ironhide was releasing giant bubbles from his left cannon. The medic snorted, saving an image of the scene to replay later.

"He only threatened to ground her for ten human years. Never said he would," Chromia chuckled, watching the giant bubbles rise on the topical winds to float out towards the sea. Annabelle squealed, laughing and clapping her hands as the next one began forming.

"Didn't make ten days. Worse, do you know how long it takes to clean off that fluid from his rotating parts? His cannons are more complicated than Prime's entire transform! I still have Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to finish repairing from the femme's prank payback! I get Elita out of medbay for them to fill it back up," the medic complained.

"I intend to clean him."

"You? Strip off the armor, undo each part and connection?" a raised optical arch met her statement.

"In the wash racks followed by warming oils and my hands sliding under his armor to," Chromia purred the smirked as Ratchet glared at her. A little exasperation and increased energon in ones lines did a mech good time to time. "Make sure the parts are working properly. That is my cue, out of bubble fluid. Time for lunch Annabelle."

**AUTOBOT MEDICAL BAY**

**TEN MINUTES LATER**

Optimus' adopted mom watched the tall regal blue and red armored mech standing in front of her with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. Pride at his reserve while dealing with the NEST Soldiers latest prank and embarrassed he did so with missing chest armor. The ancient femme still did not understand the humans need to eat organic material or what limburger cheese was. The smell of it heated and burnt on the Cybertronian armor offended her sensors and that was enough. Optimus had immediately removed the armor, demanding the men who loaded the sabot launchers with the cheese clean the armor and return it to him pristine. Now he filled out an incident report with Major Lennox.

'Been a week of learning,' she processed. Her thoughts focused on Elita, nearly recovered physically but struggling to define the relationship with her sparkmate. Their discussions had continued, merely moving from the medical bay to Elita's quarters she shared with Optimus.

Heavy treads and a familiar power signature alerted her to Ironhide entering the building. "Let me guess. All big and snarly on the battlefield, forgiving and fuzzy after?"

Giggling, the ancient femme reached out and rapped Ironhide's leg with her closed fist. "Mercy and compassion makes a good leader. Not everything is blasting."

"He's also good at leaning in close and shuttering those blue optics of his. "My name is Optimus Prime and you are in deep pit,' Ironhide mocked.

"He is such a big mech now," she admitted, looking over at Optimus.

"Should have seen him right after waking in that shell," Ironhide grunted.

"Why?"

"Forget how heavy and large he was with the armor enhancements. Broke two antenna tips on doorways, flattened half a dozen chairs, and forget to adjust for his ion rifle kick. Had his settings for his original pellet gun and no inertia dampers online. First blast slammed him backwards a fair distance," he said.

Chuckling, her aged optics spun a little faster. "Orion my little joy. Some things never change. He did that with his first home chemistry set. Forgot to calculate the expansion rate mixing his own energon fuel. Made a rather impressive hole in the ceiling. My mate turned it into a skylight so our younglings could look up and see the stars at night from their recharge bunks."

"We agreed to share our knowledge and trust one another Major. Your food, however," Optimus booming vocal filled the hangar. "You may keep entirely to yourselves. We will allow you to eat in our alt forms when necessary but please Major. Refrain from using it as a weapon."

The short speech reassured what she had long suspected. 'Optimus would make a great father to a sparkling. Or even two or three. But no,' she processed sourly. 'He uses all his strength and energy to babysit his troops. Bah! Do what Commander Kup does. Thrown them out and when the fall flat on their faceplates, pick up the pieces and let the medics handle them.' A small smile formed on her lip plates at the thought of Ratchet.

'He shows me the proper respect to my requests. Medic spent three breems remaking one hip gear to smooth my gait out. Maybe he could manufacturer a 'go' gear for my mech when he is around Elita? Be perfect time for Optimus to do his mechly duties. Prime dynasty needs to continue. I need to continue to feel needed.'

Optimus glanced her way, tilting his head in acknowledgment before continuing working with the human. The femme vented lightly, tempted to kick her Optimus square in the aft towards his quarters and Elita. If the ancient femme could have reached that high, or used enough force to make him feel it with all his armor. She vented deeper realizing his height made it impossible for her short size to even reach up and grab a helm antenna like the one his second shell form had. Chewing him out verbally, even in Cybertronian would not do. 'Primus, can any youngling be more a handful?' Angry shouts and revving engines drew her attention to the cement parkway outside the main doors. Curious, she slowly ambled out the direction even as the soldiers seemed to disregard it. Ironhide trailed behind, more to ensure her safety than to see himself. His battle-enhanced scanners recognized all three energy signatures before they even made a sound.

"But grandpa!"

"Don't grandpa me! You two unmanaged round helms! Take ya fishing to learn!"

"And what I got?"

"A fistful of sardines? OWWW!" Metal clangs echoed before two mechs barely larger than her ran by, one bright orange and the other green armored to duck behind the nearby wood crates.

"I give you poles and ya toss them! Fight and argue like little mechlings so I throw you into the woods! Straighten you out. Took forever to get yer afts home!" A taller aged mech stood there, waiving an armored fist in the air at them.

"We got lost," Skids sheepishly admitted. He glanced curiously at the femme, unfamiliar with her or her apparent lack of weapons armament.

"Ya lost yer processors! Look what ya did to George's new shiny mailbox!" The mech never noticed her, the energy signature hid under Ironhide's stronger one.

"We decorated Ravage for the tourists. Hat, sunglasses and polka dot shorts," Mudflap said, even as his optics were on the new femme.

"Humans can't be seeing a naked Decepticon," Skids added.

"Who are they?" She asked softly.

"Twin troublemakers. The second slagging pair to get in my gears," Ironhide answered back as softly then smirked, the scar on his eye plate moving with the motion.

"What?"

"I use to get them same lectures. How a mechling should show responsibility, restraint and setting an example."

"What changed?"

"Got my fourth shell and the cannons. After that, no bot said much," he grunted. His optics roved to the right then narrowed. Twin yellow and red shapes moved into view, hands holding crates full of live chickens. "YOU! Sneaking twins! I'll blast ya trouble makers into med bay!" Ironhide ran towards Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, missing Skids and Mudflap fleeing the other direction.

"This the example you set! No pit my boys are bumper rift!" Hubcap jumped up and down, yelling and feeling too tired to chase either group. A soft chuckling sound had him turning around, optics wide at the small and attractive shape standing there. "What brings a delicate wonder like you to these aged optics?"

"Waiting for my youngling to finish dealing with the NEST soldiers," she answered, smiling

"That'll take an orn. Never seen such a talkative race that says nuthin. Mech ain't helping?"

"Long gone into the matrix," she vented softly.

"My mate too, Primus keep her spark. Got me a handful of trouble in my young un's," he gestured the direction Skids and Mudflap had ran.

"Name any that aren't," she teased, standing closer to him. "How do you pass the time?"

"Sunset soon. Great view from the beach," he suggested.

"Elita promised to take me there on a tour but has been busy," she stated, moving to follow him. They continued talking, slowly making their way down the stone path.

"Which one yours?"

"Tall red and blue armored mech," she stated.

"Ah! Met that one. Got himself in a heap of trouble at the campground," Hubcap chuckled.

"Thank you for taking care of him," she laid her hand on his arm, noting he didn't resist or pull away. Optimus grinned at Major Lennox, gesturing towards the couple.

"Hubcap will keep her as safe as in my weapon's range. Magnus needs me to assist with paperwork."

"Translated you are planting a blue armored foot up his aft?" The Major grinned wickedly.

"He is an exceptional soldier," Prime countered.

"And lousy at reports."

"We each have our strengths Major. And Ironhide is the mech most on the receiving end of my footpad," he teased, walking towards the building housing the Autobot offices.

_To be continued..._

_Author's Notes: I had more than this but ran out of time leaving for work. Moving it to the next chapter. Until all are one, Layra. _


	17. Chapter 17 Sunsets, old love new friends

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. As ever, they keep me going and let me know you want to read more. If you have ever noticed, Optimus Prime's palms are made up of two parts that split down the center, referenced here. These events take place before the 'Dark of the Moon' movie verse. Credit to _thefallenwriter_ for 'guidelines for living with Cybertronians,' Ch 2 for the rule on mock battles and weapons. Onward to dealing with relationships of all levels from newly met to an old love to dealing with those you don't care about but have to endure time with.

TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS

**NEST BASE, DIEGO GARCIA ISLAND**

**MAJOR LENNOX'S OFFICE**

Major Will Lennox repressed the urge to throttle the man sitting on the other side of his desk. Experience taught him fighting was not always the first solution, or in this case, the best solution however ever tempting it might be. Instead, he sipped at his coffee, now cool from the length of time spent discussing base procedures. He winced, realizing the government liaison would switch from the official to the personal when the last file closed. 'I don't care what excuse he uses, the man is a gossiper. He is always bugging us on personal stuff about the Transformers. Bad enough he meddles in our budget but this. Maybe I should follow Ratchet's suggestion, let him watch next time Chromia and Ironhide get frisky in a public place.' How many times had he stumbled upon them by accident doing exactly that? Too many according to his therapist. Lightly blushing, Will coughed as though on his coffee before sitting the cup down on his desk. "Anything else I can assist you with?"

"A question regarding Optimus mom. What is her name? Or title? Isn't she a Prime if she is his mother? Or is it only the males?" the man tapped his stack of paper files, as though they required the information and not his own personal curiosity. His three piece suit seemed out of place on the tropical island military base as much as his frank questioning on non military matters.

"Mommymus Prime?" Will suggested with a grin. "The term is mechs instead of males and there has been a femme Prime. Her reign is in their earliest history and she was a Prime because she carried a Matrix of Leadership, not because of who her parents were. Optimus' mother doesn't have an earth designation yet and as a protected civilian, it's unlikely we will be yelling orders to her across a battlefield. Ma'am or mom will get her attention."

"So his dad was the Prime? Alpha something and other?" The man flipped through his notes on his digital reader, unable to find the name.

"Alpha Trion was not a Prime. He had possession of a Matrix but never carried it actively. Apparently it picks its bearer to a certain extent," Will began then stopped. The information he knew outdid even Sam's knowledge of the Transformers and the last person to tell would be the man sitting across his desk. He had the proper clearance but as far as Will was concerned, no need to know, or be able to repeat it to someone else. "Sentinel Prime was the Prime immediately before Optimus and no family relation."

"Is this Sentinel Prime slated for a visit later? Perhaps at Thanksgiving? Or drop in when he feels like it?" The man asked, leaning forward to rest his arm on the desk edge.

"No, he was lost on a rescue mission. Blasted off with advanced technology and never heard from again. The Autobots still grieve his loss," Will repressed a sigh, keeping his expression neutral. Sliding the chair back, he rose to his feet to end the meeting. "I'll escort you to Purchasing. I believe they are next on your review?"

"I don't remember seeing this in any of the briefings or official records, Major." He hastily threw the files into his briefcase before closing the digital reader.

"It probably isn't, not officially. Things we learned sitting around and talking with them," he shrugged, moving into the hallway to hide the smile on his face. The less the man knew the better but Will couldn't resist rubbing in not everything important existed in government files.

"Really? Usually when I and my friends talk we discuss sports and the weather, not ancient dynasty lines."

"Maybe you need higher class friends," Will muttered under his breath, holding the outer door open for the man.

**AUTOBOT MEDICAL BAY**

"Do I have to say it?" Ratchet grumbled, grabbing the sheared metal piece and yanking hard. The jagged metal bent but pulled free, narrowly missing slicing the energon lines underneath. Expertly he dropped it into a waiting recycling bin without looking, his optics spinning rapidly to determine the interior damage remained unchanged.

"Ow! Fine! I admit it, your bedside manner sucks energon," Ironhide grumbled, releasing the edge of the medical berth. His hands flexed, the marks barely showing on the berth where he had grabbed it to brace. Sitting upright, his black armored legs hung over the side, allowing access to the damaged upper leg plating.

Glaring, the medic scooted his stool closer while shifting his fingers to wiring solder tips. "I meant the rule about if you rehearse a mock battle, make sure the safety is on every weapon. Especially those explosive enough to create flying shrapnel. What were those humans processing?" Delving into the wiring, he began repairs. After a minute he tapped across a pain sensor to get a response.

"OW!" Ironhide yelped.

"Checking to see if you were recharging. Usually your mouth is going as fast as your cannons on complaints," Ratchet teased, soldering another connection.

"Comparing reports with Prime and Prowl. Human's excuse was he tried thinking 'out of the box," Ironhide grunted.

"They need to have an 'in body' experience and focus. Safety rules are for a reason," Ratchet said.

"Yah. Pull their head out of their..." Ironhide began.

"Hide!" Ratchet snapped, turning his head towards the human girl walking in through the double doors.

"Hi Annabelle," her guardian greeted, glad for the excuse to get away from the medic. Chromia could finish the repairs with more concern and a warmer touch. The idea of his femme's hands running across his armor as she moved towards his core made his engine rev and earned him another glare from Ratchet for shifting his leg.

"What are you doing?" She approached, not bothered by the open leg panel or the mess of wiring exposed to the air; growing up with the transformers she had seen critical damage and this was minor. One hand swung her blond ponytail off her shoulder before she clasped her hands together. Ratchet's one rule on humans allowed in the medical bay was no touching, no exceptions. Even for her.

"Anatomy lessons," Ratchet quickly said, nodding at her to stand where she was.

"That's good. Usually you are arguing with Ironhide and picking on him," she said.

"I do not!"The medic protested before concentrating back on the sealant gel being applied to the last connection.

"Medic picks on every bot. It's his nature," Ironhide agreed then winced as the pain sensor got hit again. "Fragger! Ow!"

"No swearing!" Ratchet snapped, finishing the temporary repairs. The leg under his hands moved slightly with a creak of old gears and he made a mental note to replace it later. Though not painful, it created a stiffness his system would have to compensate for later. Replacing it would make it easier for Ironhide to move and fight.

"Can he go now? It's our playtime," Annabelle asked as the medic closed the armored leg panel.

"Playtime? No high level motions for nine breems. Let the gel settle and return in..."

"I know the drill," Ironhide grunted, sliding off the berth to test his balance. The metal shard had slipped between the only gap in his plating. Not dangerous in and of itself with his armor except it lay across his main energon leg line. If that had split, it would have released energon and been a fire hazard. He still got teasing from the Egypt battle about his chest plates burning with spilled energon and this incident would not have helped his warrior image with the humans. Even if a human's misfiring of a weapon had caused the metal debris to go flying in all directions.

"Can we finish taking apart that tank? You promised to show me how to jam the turret so it can't turn like jamming a Decepticons gears," she grinned, letting the mech's thick black armored fingers curl around her to lift her up.

"After you jam the rolling treads as least three times. Target that can't move is easy to hit. Yesterday took too long and you'd been blasted. Seekers are not the only dangers in the 'Con army," he answered, striding towards the double doors with an uneven pace.

"Know who to watch the show world's dumbest with," Ratchet muttered as the doors slid shut after them.

**PRIME'S WORKING OFFICE**

"She was proud of herself like a youngling who rescued a cybernipper from a rooftop. Reminded me of you as a second shell," Magnus said. The large mech sat on the oversize chair behind the desk, optics scanning the waiting human size paperwork and datapads. A reminder of why the large blue and white armored mech had steadily refused any attempt at an office or desk over the vorns.

"Those seekers could have offlined her as easily as they surrendered. She risked herself to try and prevent an attack on others," Optimus answered, standing before the desk normally his. Less than a week and he would have the responsibility back as well as the headaches to go with it. His only regret was the lack of any true problems to test Magnus administrative skills. "Courage is a Prime trait."

"So is getting all shot to pit. Keep your mystic mumbo jumbo about glowing blue Matrix's and all that," the larger mech waved a hand, as though dismissing it. "What she needs is reminding she is mortal, small and fragile." His square stubby fingers tapped the desktop for emphasis. "No amount of courage saves your aft in the thick of battle and those seekers taught her nothing. They surrendered, stayed a few days for repairs and we released them. All I see is potential for trouble if she tries anything like that again."

"You don't believe? That being a Prime carries its own protections?" Optimus raised an optic arch.

"I believe in what I can touch, sensor read and data input. You stick with the foretelling and light our darkest hour stuff. I'll fight and lead the charge."

"Then may I suggest you charge into your duties commander? I have a medical test to oversee." Fifteen minutes later the ancient mech smirked as he walked in the tropical sunshine towards his personal quarters instead of voluntarily confinement in his office or handling the upcoming drill on the obstacle course. Stopping before his door, he scanned the room within, detecting the softer energy signature of his mate before keying it open.

"What happened to helping Magnus?" Elita greeted him, her smile showing she was glad to see him even as her words challenged his presence there.

"His help requires another set of hands and a spare processor who cares. Lacking that, he's on his own. I have a medical test to complete," he answered.

"Test? What now?"

"Ensuring my femme's spark is powered and capable of discharging sufficient energy," he smirked, straightening to his full twenty-eight plus height, tall and imposing.

"Your femme? Since when did I become yours only? I don't remember being consulted on that." Her hands snapped to rest on her hips even as the edges of her lip plates quirked with a smile. The warrior femme didn't resist as he moved closer to wrap his arms around her. The nearness of his physical presence tingled across her systems like high grade, exciting and warm.

"When you beauty weakens their knee struts and confuses their processors. I need mechs carrying weapons not falling at your feet pads. I staked my claim and made it clear. They touch you at their own peril," he growled back, rehearsing an old conversation of theirs. "I too can be brought down." Kneeling, he kept her enclosed in his arms showing his love, having missed their playful banter.

"Is that so mech?" Her fingers shifted against his hand, their palms touching. He vented, the air flowing over his valves in surprise as her right palm cover slid open. His fingers wrapped gently around hers, the metal pieces making his palm sliding apart. The connection normally for his energon swords flared to life, awaiting input. Designed by Ironhide as a safety and installed by Ratchet, the link activated the powering of his swords. While his rifle had built in safeties to prevent any other bot from firing it, the swords were different. Any bot holding them could turn the blades on the owner. Except his deadly blades would not shift, sharpen or curve at any command but his. Contact of their hilt in his hand linked their array into his battle systems. Elita tapped this same connection, the softest trace of her coding flowing across it. Enough to be recognized and welcomed without intrusion.

"What dearest?" Optimus asked, barely remembering the last time they had interlinked.

"I need to remember," she said, leaning against him. His mass could accommodate a weight three times hers and he barely noticed. They fit together, even in their armor shapes with him kneeling and her standing.

He relaxed, allowing full access of the link into his memory files. No secret hidden, no memory too painful or personal kept from her. He waited, curious to see what she wanted. His smile began fading as nothing happened. Concern and worry flowed across his systems at they continued at the low-level transmission level. Had she been more damaged than he knew? Or had he? The link was nowhere as spectacular as a spark merge but intimate and only between them. Why wasn't she accessing it? "Elita?"

"I want to remember you as the mech I first met," she murmured, feeling his smooth armor, without scratches or mars. Distantly she noted it needed cleaning and a light waxing. "The way you feel when we are linked, without an audience knowing."

"Humans feel each other even with an audience," Optimus snorted, remembering Sam and Mikeala on Bumblebee's hood after Mission City.

"Your mom and I have been noticing that," she chuckled. "Do you know humans tell their desires by where they touch? For instance," she leaned back and let her lip plates ghost over the back of the armored hand holding hers. "This area means we're friends or greeting." She trailed soft touches up his arm plating. "I adore you, I want you." Standing on her foremost feet pads to nuzzle around his thick neck cabling, Elita felt his free hand tightening over her hip. "We belong together." Moving to his forehead plating, with the indent shape from the one attempt to use his first Prime power. "Forever, you'll be mine." The data transferring between them increased in time with his air intakes pulling in more air. Shifting to his audio, the small inner gear spun rapidly as her lips caressed around his sensitive antenna tip. "I can't live without you."

Inner systems revving, he grabbed her closer."I need you. Our sparks as one," he rumbled, dipping his head to nuzzle her shoulder plating.

"Ugh, keep doing that...and we'll need...our recharge...berth," she moaned as he continued rubbing across her front.

"The outer door is...closed... no bot will... disturb us." He fell backwards without warning, pulling her off her feet and onto him as he settled back on the floor.

"What about... your...mom?"

"With Hubcap...they watch until ...the stars," he rumbled. His optics widened as the blaze of her spark revealed through splitting chest armor, driving thoughts of anything else away.

**LAGOON BEACH**

"Got to admit, it's darn pretty here," Hubcap stated, his aged vocal mixing with the sounds of the pounding surf and the cry of a distant seagull. The ancient parts grabber's optics tracked the seagull, the ship floating miles away and the faint movement of the nearby tropical palm trees. They had started meeting each evening to watch the sun set and forget their daily duties. Or in his case, the grand bot twins that were a handful. He never forgot the war and possiblity of sneak attacks.

"I have never seen such colors," she murmured, watching only the red and orange hues deepen as the sun appeared to sink into the water. She rested, half propped against Hubcap's old yellow armored form and the palm tree.

"Noticed that too. Found this explanation. Typical humans. Lot of words to say air and water," Hubcap snorted, the air blowing out through his upper vents to scatter the sand.

She opened the data packet after saving a copy in her personal files.

"_The earth sunlight rays are white, traveling through the atmosphere, the colors scattered out of the beam by air molecules and airborne particles, changing the final color visible. The shorter wavelength components, including blue and green scatter more rapidly. At sunrise and sunset the path the beam must travel through the atmosphere is longer, the blue and green components disappearing almost completely. The longer orange and red wavelengths are more clearly visible. The sunlight coloring is then spread across water droplets and other relatively large particles to create the effect of spreading rays as it dips down below the horizon._

"No wonder Optimus complains about their meetings. Sunset is a sad time though. The light scattering, creating darkness," Optimus mom noted.

"Light or dark," he shrugged, careful to not move her. "Same to me. Light filters or shadow enhancements to gather the parts. Always a need for them and never thought much beyond that."

"My name means 'color of the eternal sun.' Refers to red dwarf stars actually. Suns are spectacular and fiery bright while my name references a slow, cooler type star. More common too. I tend to muse on light and the stars," she admitted.

"Been on many a planet and ain't never seen beauty like this," Hubcap smiled.

"This sunset is spectacular."

"I meant you," He rolled his head to the side, letting his neck cables loosen to stare into her optics. "Id be unhappy without your light in my life."

"You just met me," she shuttered her optics.

"Spent my life looking at something to know its value. Don't waste time on a part that is damaged or ain't usable. Take too long to pull it out, clean and inventory for the medics. Injured can't wait for you to sort the good from the bad. And what I see, I got me the best."

"Is that an offer?" She craned her head upward to look at him.

"Might be. You interested in a centuries old wreck?"

"Depends."

"On?" His system stalled, waiting for her answer.

"My youngling and his femme need me now. Are you willing to share? I may not always have time for you," she stated calmly.

"For you," his lip plates caressed across her helm once. "I'd wait until this sun became a red star."

"That takes over a million years," she protested softly.

"Good point. How about we be friends for now? Let the rest sort itself out. See what the morning brings my sunset," Hubcap suggested.

"Sunset? I like the sound of that."

"Then Sunset it is. Name fits ya sure enough. Can't keep calling ya his mom."

"Only if Optimus agrees to it. He's still Prime," she said, feeling her recharge cycle beginning.

"Prime at getting in trouble if ya ask me. How about we visit my human George? He'd like ya. Get to see more of earth that ain't cement and noise," he answered, slipping an arm around her tiny waist plates. No human or Decepticon would get close enough to her to vent her direction let alone harm her. 'A lifetime spent hauling the dead and now the most important thing is living to be with her. Primus certainly has a sense of humor,' he processed as her optics shuttered closed.

_To be continued..._


End file.
